


Dragon Age: Black Flag

by TheQueensBlade



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Historical, And Samson his main rival for her affections, Cullen is an Officer of the East Ferelden Trade Company, Cullenlingus, Dragon Age AU, F/M, LOTS OF SEX DOING AND HAVING, Multi, NSFW, Pirates, Plot With Smut, Trevelyan is a Pirate Queen, smut with plot, why not both
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2018-12-16 23:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11838921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQueensBlade/pseuds/TheQueensBlade
Summary: In the late 1700s, trade is flourishing between the nations of Thedas. But why trudge over a continent, making you subject to rampaging Avvar tribes, swift Dalish bandits, and hungry great bears, when you can take to the seas to send your goods around the world much cheaper and faster? The merchant barons of the East Ferelden Trade Company are set to grow rich off their fleet of ships - except now they must deal with bands of pernicious pirates that await them from the shores of the Colean all the way to the Waking Sea.The stalwart Commander Cullen Rutherford is taxed by the East Ferelden Trade Company to destroy as many of these marauding ships as he can, and arrest and execute the infamous pirate queen Indira Trevelyan. What he never counted on was falling in love with her.





	1. A Rather Unfortunate Honeymoon

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy this big fat first chapter, my contribution to Cullen Appreciation Week on Tumblr.
> 
> This is my first fan fiction attempt that will focus solely on Cullen's POV so get ready to ship this megaship of a shippingly shippity ship. Oh, and it's on an actual ship too!

It was Commander Cullen Rutherford's wedding day.

He stared at his own reflection in the looking glass as his valet adjusted the powdered wig on his head and the snowy cravat under his royal blue coat. Every button on his officer's uniform was gleaming, the velvet brushed until not a single bit of lint remained. He knew he looked handsome and today it was his sole duty to look handsome. This was not a match forged by mutual affection, rather it had been foisted upon him by his betters at the East Fereldan Company - and everyone else around him. Even his mother had written to him, urging him to accept Meredith's hand in marriage. He could still see her handwriting in his memory: "She will forge a path for you through the ranks of your prestigious company, and her father - who practically put the tea in my tea cup this morning - will accept you as his own."

Cullen sighed as Jim knelt down to shine the buckles of his shoes one more time. She had not said a single thing about love in that letter, which struck him as a little disingenuous. He knew she loved his father, she had told him and his siblings many times that she had chosen him over many other eligible suitors. Cullen looked at himself in the mirror and realized he wanted that too: to be wanted, and picked, and chosen. He also knew this was foolish. Meredith's father was one of the four great men who had founded the East Fereldan Trade Company. Lord Holden moved silks and velvets, spices and salt, and metric tons of tea from the docks of distant Tevinter down the Rivani coast to the capital, and his fine goods made the aristocratic homes of Denerim even finer. There was no shame in marrying Meredith, his only daughter. So why did he feel ashamed? And was it shame, or simply distaste? Should one's wedding day feel like an infernal chore?

He had very little time to continue these dreary thoughts and remained in a bit of a daze all the way to the Chantry, until he was standing at the altar watching Lord Holden as he escorted his daughter down the aisle, her slim figure covered from head to toe in ivory lace. He was soon shaking Holden's hand and then pulling the veil back from Meredith's face. This was not the first time he had looked upon her but it felt like the first time he truly saw her. She had icy grey eyes and high cheekbones, but there was a cruel twist to her thin lips that did not bode well for him. She looked back at him with a stranger's ambivalence before they turned to face the priest in front of them. As he began the ceremony, Meredith slipped her hand into his and it was dry and papery, and she had a few rough patches along the fingers Cullen knew was from too many hours bent over a piece of unending embroidery. They had engaged in all of three conversations together, and each time Meredith mentioned her beloved hobby. Cullen pretended to be listening to the sacred words being poured forth from the priest's mouth but thought only of the long hours they would pass in each other's company not speaking to each other as he poured over maps or ledgers for the company, or kept his head buried in a newspaper, and she stitched thousands of twining flowers onto something, for some reason he never quite understood. Perhaps there would be a child or two at his feet? He blushed thinking about this, as he stammered through his vows. He hadn't dwelled on that part of married life yet, how part of all of this would the production of heirs for the Holden fortune, but he knew it was required of him. The dread of exactly how that was going to work, starting with just a few hours from now, made him want to turn and run out of the building.

Cullen blinked a few times when he noticed the ceremony had come to a halt. He looked at Meredith in confusion. She hissed at him under her breath, “Cullen?”

The ancient priest cleared his throat and repeated himself. “I _said_ \- you may now - kiss the bride.”

She tilted her head toward him, eyes closed, and Cullen leaned down, ready to begin this new chapter of his life. He brushed his lips against hers, but she kept them pursed and tight. He pulled back, disappointed, as the sound of light applause filled the room. Cullen hadn’t expected magic, he wasn’t a child. He had seen combat and served his country and was being rewarded with this union to a powerful family. But it felt like nothing, just another thing he had to do today. Next came the elegant dinner at her family’s mansion, followed by a little dancing in the ballroom - and then they would retire to their quarters together as husband and wife. 

Judging by the way Meredith had chosen to sit as far away as possible from him in the carriage ride to her parents’ home, their honeymoon night was not going to go well. 

* * * * *

To Cullen’s chagrin, the dinner was sumptuous but it went by much too fast, the dancing felt almost perfunctory. Now he was sitting on the edge of his bed in his night shirt, listening for some kind of signal from Meredith that he could pass through the door connecting their rooms. He squeezed his palms open and shut, and chose to think about the voyage they’d start tomorrow. He would be accompanying Meredith, and a shipload of expensive Tevenese teas and indigo dyes, to their temporary home in Antiva City. Cullen had been given a few important tasks: help establish the East Fereldan Company in this important port city, survey the seas, and get his new wife settled and begin his family. He felt ready to accomplish all three goals, but Meredith would have to meet him half way on the last one.

“Cullen, you may enter…”

He stood up, ran a hand through his hair and shook off any anxiety he had. It couldn’t be harder than commanding his tall ship, Calenhad’s Pride, and her crew of thirty.

Cullen stepped into the room her family had set up for their first night together, in a quiet, unused wing of their sprawling estate. Meredith had left one candle burning near the bed, and she was already deep in the covers. He could barely see the top of her head.

"Darling?"

She sniffled and shifted around under the comforter. "I'm ready. I guess."

He pulled off his nightshirt and realized she had her eyes squinted shut. He sighed and pulled off his smalls too. It didn't matter about being shy if she was going to keep her eyes closed the entire time. He slid into bed next to her and they laid there for a while, side by side, on their backs.

"Well, aren't you..."

"I'm going to, it's just, can you take something off? You're fully clothed, how am I supposed to - "

More rustling from under the sheets. She wasn't going to let him take a good look at even an inch of her bare body. "There. Are you happy now?"

That four word question made him feel like he had dove into an icy ocean, and he was drowning. Cullen decided to get this over with. He got on top of her and boldly swept his hands over her body, looking for something to hold on to while he roused himself with his other hand. He tried kissing her neck, dipped beneath the sheets to kiss her breasts, but nothing was happening. That sense of dread he experienced earlier in the day returned as he realized this wasn't going to work. At all. She wasn't going to suddenly draw him close, murmur against his ear, _here, let me help you_ , while she took him in hand and stroked him until he was hard and ready to mount her.

He collapsed on the bed next to her and rolled on to his side.

"Cullen?"  
"We'll try again some other night. What matters is we tried." 

Meredith was moving around on the bed next to him and he knew without looking that she was pulling her nightgown back on, then she was still again.

"I'm sorry."

"I am too."

It was his turn to squint his eyes closed. He thought about how they were going to be on the sea tomorrow and he'd be back at the helm of his ship and that would make him feel good again.

  
* * * * *

It was not customary for an East Fereldan naval officer to travel with his wife while also escorting cargo, but her father, a stickler for efficiency, was the one who insisted it'd be easier and perfectly safe. After all, Cullen was the great pirate hunter, he had sunk a dozen ships all targeting his company's property. The voyage to Antiva would go quickly, the winds favored them, and Meredith could stay below deck in the captain's quarters, sewing away. Cullen had noticed with some bitter irony that she was making a set of linen shirts for a baby, but he was too busy to explain to her why it was ironic. Or find out if she even knew what irony was. He wasn't sure what she knew besides how to drop a stitch. She certainly had nothing to say to him over breakfast every morning.

For three nights on the boat, he tried again with her, hoping maybe being out of her parents' home and in the crisp ocean air would spur on her ardor, but it didn't. If anything, she was stiffer than she had been on that first night. Cullen hated the idea of the alternative, that he was "supposed to" just push himself on her and force it to happen. He would do no such thing, he was a gentleman, and would only lay with her when she was ready to pry open those recalcitrant knees of hers. 

Then one morning, after they had cruised past Brandel's Reach and were properly sailing on the open Amaranthine Sea, all of Cullen's priorities changed when two pirate ships appeared on the horizon behind them. 

"Ser!"  
"I see them. Men, at arms..."

He had spotted them before the boy in the crow's nest had, and the pair were moving fast on their tail. Cullen's pulse raced and he turned to a steward near him. "Tell Mrs. Rutherford to stay locked in her cabin please, and post at least five men outside her door."

They were futile orders, because magic was involved. 

Cullen and his helmsman kept an eye on the ships closing in on them, watching them take formation, one of them attempting to flank them on their starboard side while the second came up on their tail. They aimed the ship's guns and every man on deck prepared for combat with pistols and swords readied. 

"On my word, FIRE - "

The ship's guns erupted into the side of the ship flanking them, but the men grew puzzled when nothing happened, there were no shouts from the other crew or the sound of wood being torn apart. Before he could issue another order to his first mate Cassandra, he was regaining his balance as a different ship came slamming into their side with an enormous impact and many of his men hit the deck, their confused cries filling the air. It took him a few beats to realize the two ships they had been staring at had been an illusion, and the real ship attacking them had come from the west, appearing out of a hidden bend in the coastline. 

"Ser, they must have a mage on board!"  
"Yes, I've figured that out by now, Jim, thank you!"

Cullen looked up and saw the rival ship's black flag rippling in the breeze, emblazoned with an ominous skull. He had to look twice at it - the skull was wearing a crown of red roses. _No, it couldn't be -_

A fortnight before his wedding, he had been heading toward Lord Holden's office in the Denerim headquarters of the East Fereldan Company when he overheard a conversation as he passed in the hallway. Voices had been raised, and even though the door had been closed, Cullen had heard this much of the argument. "How could you let a  _woman_ divest you of an entire shipment of salt and spices?"

When Cullen had asked his future father-in-law who the men were arguing about, Lord Holden had pronounced every syllable in her name with a strange mixture of both distaste and a begrudging respect.

_Indira Valentina Trevelyan. The fallen daughter of a Bann of the Free Marches, and now - a notorious pirate queen._

Her ship, the Inquisition, was fast and light, her crew loyal and deadly, a band of brigands who were feared and respected amongst the pirate rabble. The bounty on her head was the highest of any criminal in any of the countries of Thedas - King Alistair was offering 10,000 gold lions to whoever would put her in chains and send her to the hangman's noose, and still, none of her cohorts ever attempted to apprehend her even with that price on her head. Cullen watched in horrified dismay as her motley bunch of thieves and mercenaries boarded his ship and began routing his disciplined crew. 

He dove into the fray, swinging his sword and shouting out commands and cries to rally. Cullen waited to hear his ships cannons firing again, this time at the proper ship, but something must have gone wrong below deck. How many men did she have at her command, could they have been overwhelmed so easily? Cullen raised his arm to aim his pistol at a huge Qunari merc who had one of his men in a chokehold but when he pulled the trigger, nothing happened. Then he realized all around him his men were attempting the same thing, only to find their pistols refused to fire. 

"Ah, it wouldn't be fair to let you use your pistols, when we don't like to use 'em!" Cullen turned to look at the mage who had spoken, standing on the upper deck, clad in black silk and wearing a jaunty smirk to go along with his groomed mustache. 

"Nah, we like to use these!" 

A sassy, grinning blonde elf appeared at the railing next to him, nocked her bow back and released three arrows into a few of his hapless deckhands. He saw his tenacious first mate, Cassandra, focus on this girl and storm toward both of the pirates.

"Cass, be careful, she has - "

A red-headed dwarf flaunting all his chest hair and a heavy gold chain popped up at the elf's side with a crossbow in his arms. "Not so fast, drop that cutlass -"

Cassandra was always fierce and focussed, and something in her eyes must have cowed the dwarf enough to stumble backwards and misfire, the arrow sailing over her shoulder. The dwarf didn't even have enough time to reload his weapon, she simply swung at him with her right fist, making the dwarf land on his arse to avoid her blow.

"Hey, I think I like you, you're - "

He had to roll out of the way to avoid one of her kicks. "Now come on, that's not nice, calm down, we can have a drink, talk this over - "

Cullen wanted to watch Cassandra, not just because this scene was proving to be more comical than expected, but also because he needed her to survive. Things were not looking good for his side, many of his men had even jumped ship and started to swim away. Cullen managed to fight off two pirates armed with daggers and turned to survey his deck. It was chaos, there were more pirates on their feet and most of his uniformed men lying lifeless on the deck.

And then he saw her.

They had lowered a gangplank between the ships, and she walked gracefully across the gap with a jaunty roll of her hips. Indira Trevelyan was clad in tight black leathers and a loose linen shirt, cut scandalously low, a red silk sash tied about her waist. She had a pistol readied at her side and a beautiful steel saber in one hand, but he could not see her face as she approached, her wide three-cornered hat kept most of her visage shaded.

He reloaded his pistol and aimed it right at her, pulled the trigger and heard the empty click.

"You know my mage has rendered your pistols useless, so  _why_ do you keep firing at me?" Her voice was smoky and mesmerizing, lower and huskier than he expected it to be. Cullen kept trying his gun, knowing it wouldn't work, hoping he was distracting her a bit until - 

Their swords clashed, once, twice, and the third time her saber landed against his cutlass she hit him so hard it made him grit his teeth. She pirouetted with grace away from him as he thrust his sword forward, tearing a bit of her silk sash. He knew certain rebellious aristocratic young ladies might secretly employ a swordmaster so they could learn the art of fencing, but Indira Trevelyan didn't wield her weapon with any kind of delicacy. Every time she struck at him he knew she meant to kill him and he had to keep his wits about him, and not get bewitched by what he could see of her face - a beauty mark at the corner of a pair of soft, full lips, curled into a playful sneer as they fought each other.

Cullen brought his blade down as hard as he could toward her left shoulder but she neatly rolled out of his way, popping up onto her feet.

"You the captain of this ship?"  
"I am - "

Cullen had to dodge a throwing knife she had produced from her boot, and then quickly blocked away her next blow. Their blades rotated against each other, making the metal sing, as she tried desperately to disarm him. She was a strong, intuitive swordswoman, and soon she had maneuvered him so they were practically dancing with each other toward the quarter deck. He had to take the stairs backwards as she refused to stop swinging, jabbing and feinting, and he could hear her crew cheering her on as they battled each other. 

"Surrender to me - "  
"Never."  
"Your men already have. You're the last one standing."  
  
Cullen took the quickest glance toward the rest of the ship, and saw Cass and his dogsbody Jim on their knees, hands bound, being watched over by the blonde elven girl and the red-headed dwarf. He was fond of both of them. He didn't want them to watch him die, but if he had to die so they could live, so be it - 

The pirate queen landed three quick blows against his sword, and then riposted after his parry, the two of them pushed together tight, their swords between them. Cullen found himself with nowhere else to go, the rudder and open sea was at his back. He could hear her breathing hard and then felt the tip of a dagger against his neck. He didn't even know she had another weapon on her. Of course she would. Pirates would never play fair, their only code was to murder and steal and - 

"Get down your knees. Do it."

He dropped before her and she pressed the tip of her saber against the vein in his neck. It gave him one brief moment to admire her blade. It had an inlay of gold running down the middle of it, etched with twining roses. For a moment all he heard was the wind around them.

The pirate nicked him a little, making him bleed, but then, her sword hesitated. Cullen stayed utterly still as her sword moved, but not fast enough to behead him or be pushed into him. Instead, she used the tip of her blade to nudge the wig and hat off of his head, revealing his full head of blonde hair. Cullen felt goosebumps travelling up and down his arms as he swallowed and summoned the courage to look up at her.

She was staring at him.

A brisk breeze dislodged her felt hat a little and she reached up with her free hand to try to keep it in place, but her hand was shaking. It slipped from her fingers and landed on the deck behind her and Cullen felt his chest tighten as the raven locks she had kept tucked inside her hat flew free. He saw her smooth high cheekbones and her dark brown eyes piercing into him. The breeze also rustled her linen blouse, giving him a tantalizing peek at the swell of the top of one of her breasts and more of her mocha brown skin. The minx wore no binding garments and that simple idea made him even more lightheaded and ready to die on her blade. He closed his eyes and waited to feel her cutlas push into his neck but felt nothing. When he managed to look at her again, he noted she was biting that full bottom lip of hers, conflicted about something.

"Go on, kill me. Just please - don't hurt my wife."

At this, mirth transformed her features. 

"Your - wife?! I've boarded many East Fereldan Trade ships and this is the first time a WIFE was the cargo!"

Her team behind her cackled along, and then the Qun Cullen had seen earlier burst from the captain's quarters below them, pushing Meredith in front of him, sobbing and terrified and shrieking.

"Boss, you wouldn't believe this - "  
"Oh, I would. Let me guess, did you find one standard issue milquetoast bride below deck?"

He gave her a rough shove toward the pack of cackling pirates, right into the arms of one his cohorts, a young man with a mop of unruly hair. "She's not much to look at, is she, boss?"

Indira snorted, sword still pointed at Cullen's neck.

"Don't be rude, Krem. And you, Captain...?"

"Rutherford."

She stared at him again, and gave him a little disappointed shake of her head to tell him she didn't like that answer.

"Er, Cullen...Rutherford. Captain Cullen Stanton Rutherford. Cullen. My name's Cullen."

Indira gave him a tiny smile but then used the tip of her sword to push up his chin so he was really looking at her.

"On your feet, Cullen. You should see what's coming next."

She walked him toward the deck, where Meredith was sobbing, crumpled in a pile of petticoats. Indira pushed him forward so he was kneeling alongside Cass and Jim, a few feet away from his new bride.

"What's your name, girly? Where're you from?"

She could only hiccup and sob more. Cullen sighed and summoned his most calming husband voice. "Sweetheart - "

Indira scoffed. "She's not your sweetheart. Any fool with two eyes can tell. A loving wife would have crawled on her hands and knees to you, pushed her way into your arms. Instead here she lies, sniveling away, snot rolling down her face, thinking only of herself. What's your  _name_ , idiot? Tell us!"

Meredith sat up and looked at Indira with swollen, red, angry eyes.

"My _father_ will make you all pay for this! You'll all be captured and tortured for days! He'll hang you but cut you down before you die, and then flay the skin from your bodies and then disembowel you before your own eyes!"

This only made every single pirate laugh, and not laughs of bitter cruelty, but just full belly laughs, as though they hadn't laughed in a long time. Cullen looked over at Cass, who to his surprise, wasn't scowling, but looking upon this horde of criminals with curious eyes.

Indira raised her free hand to quiet down her gang. "All right, that's enough, friends. Now, my dear, who is your father again? You didn't quite say, in the middle of your scary story about what will certainly happen to all of us."

Meredith sniffled and ignored, or didn't detect, Indira's sarcastic tone. "My father is Lord Giles Holden. He is one of the founders of the East Ferelden Company, and he would also - generously pay you to spare my life." Indira raised an eyebrow at this change in tone, and then her lips tilted in a smile when Meredith remembered to add, "Oh, and my husband's too of course."

Indira gestured to Krem to keep an eye on Cullen while she strolled about the deck, flicking her dagger in the air and catching it in the same hand. "Hmm, can we trust such a person? A man who exploits the work of others for his own profit? A man who drives up local prices on goods so that the regular people of Tevene can't even afford to drink their own tea? What about the children who slave away in Rivani cotton mills, or the itinerant Anderfels farmers who pick the apples for the brandy your father and his friends guzzle down as they put more people in shackles for the sake of buying you a pretty - ?"

The saucy elf girl emerged from the cabins below just in time. "- Found 'er wedding dress, Indie! You want it? It's not really your style. It looks like - curtains? We can make curtains for your quarters with 'em!"

Indira shuddered and gave her friend a dismissive gesture. "Chuck it overboard, Sera. It's where _she's_ going next."

Meredith shrieked in fear, Cullen tried to stand and approach her side but someone was holding on to him and tying his hands behind his body. 

"Miss Trevelyan, please - "

Indira spun on a heel toward him, her eyes glittering with amusement. "Ah, I haven't been called that in a good long while. A good long while."

" _Miss Trevelyan_ , please spare her life. I'll - do whatever you want me to do. Let me get a ransom for her, I can make sure you get the coin and nobody attempts to arrest you."

The meddlesome elf intervened once again, handing her the ship's log and a sheaf of Cullen's correspondence. "Also found this, Indira. All his officer this and thats and whatnots. Last letter from the bitch's father is on the top of the stack."

Indira took the letter from her and cleared her throat, reading it to her crew. "Cullen, I give you leave of the most important treasure I own, my darling daughter, Meredith." Indira made a face at her gang for their amusement and added, "Ugh, what a name!" before continuing with letter. "I also wish you a safe voyage as you establish new contracts with our clients in Antiva City, and on your way there, apprehend - or kill if necessary -  any pirate who proves to be a threat to our fine company. Per our previous discussion, please be exceedingly vigilant as you will be sailing right through the territory of that infamous harlot Indira Trevelyan, although if you were to bring us proof that you beheaded this murderous slut, I would be willing to increase your salary three times over - beyond what you will need to start a new branch of my family. Etcetera, etcetera, blah blah blah, money money money, all I care about is money, yours, Lord Holden."

With extreme indifference, Indira let her fingers open and the wind carry the letter away from her and then laid her eyes upon Cullen once again. "How sweet. You've been talking about me? And before we even met, too. I suppose it's kismet that brought our paths together."

"That and the crates of fancy dye and aristo tea down in the hold!? And a few barrels of that fine brandy you mentioned earlier, eh, Inquisitor?"

It was the first time Cullen had heard one of the pirates refer to her thusly, and it made his stomach drop.  
  
_What do Inquisitors do?_

_They pass judgement._

"Well, gang. As is my way on this ship, we will put it to a vote and then I dictate the sentence. Who says Mrs. Rutherford should walk the plank? I believe the sharks have already congregated to eat the Fereldan cowards who previously jumped ship."

The pirates began chanting "Walk! The! Plank!" and clanging their swords together in a cacophony. As their cheers grew louder, Indira took a few steps toward Meredith and pulled her to her feet by her hair.

"Walk, Mrs. Rutherford. Do one little thing in your life with some courage."

Meredith howled like a child who had been kicked by a cruel adult as Indira used the point of her dagger blade to guide her to the railing of the ship. It took two men to force her up onto the plank and a third one to give her a kick forward. Meredith stood there, halfway between the end of the plank and the jeering pirates, looking down at the water. Cullen tried one last time to plead for her life.

"Inquisitor, please. I'll do anything for her, a compromise can be met, we can negotiate!"

His tone was anguished, it made her approach him and stroke a knuckle down the side of his face, as her eyes bored into his. The situation was dire, but Cullen would always remember that touch, and how he had felt something low in his belly brewing within him in an instant.

He would also never forget her response:

"But you have nothing to offer me that I'm not already about to take."

She turned from him, took a few bold steps and then with a featherlight jump onto the plank behind Meredith. With one hand on the girl's lower back, she walked her right to the edge of the plank and pushed her over without further ceremony. Cullen could barely hear the splash and her screams over the pirates' boisterous celebration.

Cullen sunk to his knees, beyond disheartened, not watching as the pirates rolled a barrel of brandy onto the deck to celebrate. Nobody noticed when Cass and Jim edged their way toward him on their knees, their hands still bound too.

"Oh Cullen, poor Meredith, I'm so sorry."  
"Ser, do you think we are next?"  
"Probably. And if they don't kill us, Lord Holden might want to finish the job." Cullen shook his head in defeat. "And I could not stop any of this from happening."

Cass gave him one of her usual sounds of Nevarran disgust. "Cullen, it isn't your fault. And if we survive this, I'll make sure everyone at the Company knows. It happened in a heartbeat, Cullen. A heartbeat."

Somewhere among the jovial shouting and chanty singing, he heard Indira ordering his ship to be stripped of anything useful, loaded onto theirs, and then set on fire and sunk. Cullen felt sick again, a captain should go down with his ship, that was the rule - it wasn't just an adage, it was a manner of honor. The dread pirate queen was being poured a generous mug of liquor when Cullen spoke up, his voice weaker this time.

"Inquisitor, what will you do with us?"

The party paused for a moment as her crew waited to hear her final judgement. She was looking at Cass with unveiled interest when someone cleared their throat nearby. It was the brassy dwarf, his crossbow slung over his back.

"Yes, Varric, I sense you have an opinion?"  
"Well, this here's the first mate, and this terrified one managed to survive what the others couldn't. They could be of use to us, especially since it looks like we lost more than a few of our own too."

Indira cocked an eyebrow at him. "Vaaaaric, just come out and say that you clearly fancy her."  
"Then _you_  should have to come out and say you clearly fancy _Curly_ over there _!"_

Cullen grew very still at this, but Indira did not respond. She only cleared her throat and addressed Cassandra. "Your new friend Varric here, he's a bit of a storyteller. He publishes a series of smutty adventure novels called Swords and Shields? You might have heard of - "

Cass's eyes lit up and a blush came to her cheeks as the words poured out of her. "Of  _course_ I've heard of him! Are you Varric Smethras?"  
"Tethras. With a T. And yes, it is I, your esteemed, and hopefully - favorite - novelist?"

Cullen couldn't believe it - his number one officer, a woman who was set to outshine him at the Company was now possibly setting aside all of her loyalties because she had finally met the man who had written all those terrible books she devoured one after another. 

"All right, Varric, you can keep her. But the second she puts a knife to your throat don't come crying for help!"  
"I won't, and she won't - I hope. Besides, we'll keep her in the brig until we can be sure she's not too stabby."

Varric cut the ropes from her hands and helped her to her feet. He grinned up at her and Cass looked away with a huff, her arms crossed, pretending to not surrender so easily. Indira looked at Jim next, who scooted closer to her and groveled at her feet.

"Please, kind Inquisaytor. I've been serving Master Cullen since he was a Templar and I was his squire. If you spare his life, it'd only be right to spare mine."

Indira looked at Cullen with curiosity. "You were a Templar?"  
"Not anymore. I wanted something more, or just something different. Something better."

Indira glanced toward where the mage with the mustache was seated on the lap of the big Qun as he poured brandy into his mouth for him out of his mug.

"So you aren't a threat to my mage on board, Dorian?"  
"No more lyrium, so no. This post with the East Ferelden Company gave me a chance to get off of it."  
"Suppose I'll have to believe you. Besides, Iron Bull would pound you into the deck if you so much as step on his lover's toe."

Her attention was pulled toward her crew, who was begging her to join them in the carousing. She gave Cullen a searching look as she made her decision.

"You three - you're our prisoners now. You'll be put to work, earn your keep. Perhaps you'll grow to enjoy the way we live. You'll find it's a damn well better life than making a handful aristo twats richer than everyone else in the world. Or being married off to a bride you had no care for."

"That isn't fair, you don't know how I felt about the woman you just pushed overboard."

"I do, it's written all over your face."

Indira turned to a freckled dwarf with an axe at her back who had emerged from the crowd, ready to help. "Lace, take these three to the brig, get them situated down there with the other one."

Before Cullen could wonder who 'the other one' was, she added another command, all while studying Cullen again with those probing eyes of hers.

"Get that wound of his dressed - and then bring him to my quarters for dinner."

She melted into the crowd of her carousing pirates and only when she had mentioned it did Cullen realize his arm was bleeding. She had wounded him during their duel and he hadn't even felt it. He looked at the blood on his hand but felt his spine stiffen as well. Dinner in her quarters. He found himself fixated on a traitorous thought - that he wanted to talk to her again. It was a terrible thing to think, this woman had just fed his wife to the sharks.

But he wanted to be in her presence again.

He wanted to be _alone_ with her.

* * * * *

Down in the brig of the ship, a young man - pale and strange, dressed his wound.

"I'm Cole. I'm the cook, and the medic when need be, although Dorian is better at this sort of thing. They sound like they're already quite soused on deck."  
  
"Aye, they are. Who's that fellow?"

Cullen gestured toward a man in the small cell next to his, who had his back to the two of them and was whittling something despite the dim light.

"You can ask me, I'm not deaf and mute."

Cole wrapped the bandage one more time around Cullen's bicep. "That's Blackwall, although we found out eventually that that wasn't his real name. Inquisitor thinks he's a bit of a traitor, so here he sits, night and day - "

"Despite having sworn my fealty to her and her alone, despite having fixed the rudder of the ship and some problems with the derricks too. She is a hard-hearted woman, I warn you."

"Don't listen to him, Indira is a kind spirit."

Cullen heard Cass scoff in her cell across the way. "Yes, a kind spirit who slaughters more than a dozen people and destroys other people's property."

Cole turned to face her. "She gives the profits away, I'll have you know. Yes, we might take a little brandy, a little rum, eat the food we find in your larder - but all that stolen tea in the cargo -"

"It isn't stolen tea, it - "  
"You know what I mean. And we don't have time to discuss how trade rests firmly on the backs of an exploited labor force, you're expected in Indira's cabin for dinner."

* * * * *

Dinner was a delicate fish stew, Cullen was surprised by its quality. It wouldn't have been out of place on Lord Holden's table, served out of a silver tureen by liveried servants in white gloves. He was also surprised by Indira's table manners, although he shouldn't have been. He imagined that once upon a time, in her own lordly father's home, Indira sat in a pretty dress and was waited on too. But she had rejected it all for a life on the sea, a life of criminal enterprise.

"Wine?"  
"You've got wine?"  
"Boarded an Orlesian brigantine less than a fortnight ago, her cargo heavy with fine wines and spices."

Indira poured a delicate white wine into their glasses and they clinked them together without a toast. He looked around her cabin, and tried his hardest not to dart a look at her bed, wide and comfortable looking. He'd be sleeping in that rope hammock in his cell for quite some time, until he could figure out how and when to escape. He had to get back to Lord Holden and explain and apologize. And grovel. 

She drained her glass and poured herself another.

"So. Wife on board. Like I said earlier, not standard practice."  
"It was - our honeymoon, of sorts. I was taking her to Antiva, where the East Ferelden Company is setting up new offices."  
"Interesting. Duly noted. Not about the honeymoon per se, but sounds like a lot of pretty ships are going to come sailing my way soon."

She cupped her wine glass in her hands and clinked one of her rings against the heavy crystal, leaning back in her chair to study him.

"Did you want to marry her?"  
"Of course I did, it was - "

A corner of her lips tilted up in disdain. "Why lie to me? What is the strategic advantage of telling me that falsehood at this moment?"

Cullen took a sip of his wine to steady his nerves. Was this an interrogation, was he to be judged and tossed overboard after dessert?

"If you lie to me one more time, I shant ask you to sit at my dinner table again, so choose your words wisely."  
"And how would you know I'm lying to you to begin with, we only just met."

Indira stood up to gather their dishes into a neat pile and clear some space on the table. "I'm a very good judge of character. Many men have lied to me and after a while, you develop a skill for detecting their lies. Sometimes it's something fairly obvious in their tone..."

She passed by him to look for something in a desk drawer behind him. For a brief moment he smelled her perfume, both sweet and sultry.

"...sometimes it's a facial twitch, something in the eyes, in your body language." At this, Cullen sat up straighter, realizing he had been growing comfortable in her presence. She came back to the table and spread out a map of Thedas in front of him, and placed his ship's ledger next to it. She sat down across from him again and refilled both their glasses.

"So, I've been looking at your records and everything seems in place."  
"As it should. I have been told I am quite meticulous."

She put a hand on the ledger. It had scars across the knuckles, just like his. "You can account for every crate loaded into Calenhad's Pride - you knew what was in them?"

Cullen stammered, "I-I, I was there - sometimes. My first mate might have filled in for me on occasion. The crates are all clearly labeled, and if we had made a mistake, we would have discovered it once we've reached our destination to move the product in question."

Indira looked thoughtful again, and frustrated. "You're no help."

"What are you getting at, Miss Trevelyan. I might be able to help if you - tell me how I can help. Do you think there is something - afoot? At the East Fereldan Trade Company? Because I can assure you that each trip the Calenhad's Pride undertook is accounted for in that ledger. "

"I don't trust you. Not yet. But I am looking for something and I am trying to find out where it's coming from."

He watched her tap her ring against the side of her glass again, staring at the map in front of them. Cullen broke out into a light sweat. He was definitely lying. He had taken two off the books trips, short ones, from Val Chevin to Highever. He had been urged to be as discreet as possible and use a smaller crew, and had only been told that the cargo was "of a personal nature". He figured it was just something _Orlesian_. You know. Maybe something perverted.

Cullen realized she had been staring at him while he was pondering what manner of Orlesian boudouir accoutrements could have been in that cargo. She let her chair tip forward, something stern in her eyes now.

"Stand up. No, it's okay, go on, finish your wine and then put the glass down, but stand up."

Cullen emptied the glass and laid it down with shaky fingers. Indira poured herself another one, but left his glass empty. She leaned back in her chair again, after a taking a long, deep sip.

"Take your clothes off."  
"Wh-what?"  
"Do it."

Cullen was frozen. He wasn't feeling disobedient, but just glued to the spot with shock.

"Cullen. Don't make me threaten you."  
"With what?" 

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, the knife up my sleeve. Or the two under my chair's arm rests. Oh, I've also got a loaded pistol holstered under the table. Neat little trick I learned from an old card sharp beau of mine. Want to see?"

Her quick-draw hand produced the gun, showed it to him, and slid it back into place under the table's surface. She had such nimble hands, fast fingers, and in the flickering candlelight she was both beautiful and intimidating.

Was there something in his wine? He was having trouble concentrating.

"Take your clothes off, Commander Rutherford. Do not make me repeat myself."

Cullen stood up and began undressing, as dignified as possible, not dropping his clothing on the floor but leaving them in a pile on the seat of his chair. He shed his uncomfortable, and now bloodied, officer's coat, the linen shirt beneath. He unbuckled his belt and stepped out of his boots. Then it was breeches and smalls and nothing else. He stood before her exposed, arms at his side, not making eye contact with her. 

"Give me your wrists."

He kept his eyes on her bureau nearby rather than look at what she was doing, since he was beginning to understand what was about to happen to him: she would tease the truth out using torture. He was ready, his former life as a soldier taught him how to endure significant amounts of pain and suffering. He kept calm as she looped one end of the rope around his wrists over a rafter above his head, pulling on it until his arms were raised above him and he could not move without making the knots even tighter.

Cullen took deep breaths and stared at the map on the table in front of him as she drew closer to him.

He could smell her perfume again.

He heard her hum as one of her fingers danced across a scar across his right side. He wanted to moan at this lightest touch but he bit it back and kept it in.

"This man meant to kill you."  
"He almost did."  
"I am glad he didn't."

She swept a hand across his chest and then let it wander south, across the rippled muscles of his stomach. This time his breath hitched and he couldn't stop it.

"Mmm, I gave you gooseflesh. Do you like it when I touch you - because - you are too beautiful not to touch."

Indira stalked around him with a predatory air, one hand on his flesh at all times. She cupped his arse, her fingers coming to land right between the cheeks, before she crossed to stand in front of him again, the hand stopping on his chest, fingers on one of his nipples.

"I know you won't answer right now. You're telling yourself this is shameful, that you shouldn't enjoy it. But you do."

Cullen dropped his head back and swore in front of a lady for the first time in his life, as Indira darted her tongue out to lick his nipple. He swore again, more needy this time as her other hand touched his balls with a featherlight touch.

"Cullen, I want to know two things, and two things alone. Question number one is this: did you successfully lay with your new bride before I threw her overboard?"

He finally looked at her, helpless. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because you're dying for release and I've hardly even teased you. I haven't even touched your cock but look at it. Go on."

Cullen looked down at himself. He was painfully hard and already leaking a little arousal. Indira leaned in closer to him, her lips so close to his as one of her hands finally curled around his aching staff. "Tell me, Cullen. Tell me everything. Did you play with each other?"

"No."  
"Did she let you suck her breasts?"  
"No."  
"Did she take your cock into her mouth?"  
"No."  
"Was she wet between her thighs?"  
"No. She was a true lady, and no highborn gentlewoman would - "

"Would a highborn gentlewoman do this?"

She pumped his cock twice and then did something that made his knees turn to jelly. She raised her hand to her lips and tasted his arousal, making sure he watched her pink tongue lap at her own skin. Cullen groaned loud, and leaned toward her, ignoring the burning in his wrists. "You are no lady, you are a slut, no better than a brothel worker."

"Mmm, you're lying again. Lips are saying one thing, body's saying another." Indira ran her fingers along the bottom of his shaft, and switched to only touching him with finger tips, making him gasp out his next words.  "I am telling you only the truth. Yes, I did not consummate my marriage, and yes, I think you are a wanton, terrible, murderous harlot. And a fucking run of the mill cocktease."

Indira burst out laughing, and then followed her delighted giggles with a hard slap on his arse that made him hiss and jerk away.

"You're funnier than you think you are, Rutherford, I'll give you that. But I am no cocktease..."

"Then what do you call what you're doing right now?"

Indira went back to standing so close to him, her lips hovering near his as she grasped his cock once again. "I'm not teasing you, I'm pleasing you, and it feels good. Moan for me. I want to hear it."

She stroked him slowly, it made him growl and roll his hips into her hand, and also try to dip his head closer to hers. Those lips, he wanted to taste them. He came within inches of them and then - she stepped away from him. She let go of his cock, she stopped caressing his balls, and he felt himself ache all the way down to the root from the lack of her hand. Indira moved away from him and put a finger on the map in front of him.

"My second question is this: What's missing from your captain's log, Cullen? I know the East Ferelden Trade Company is engaging in some level of illegal smuggling. Most of your business has been legitimate but as of late, some of it has not been."

Before he could manufacture an answer for her, she continued. "I know this because the last big blonde Fereldan officer I had tied up in my quarters told me he was used to leaving a few unassuming crates off his ship's manifesto."

Cullen swallowed. He had a sinking feeling she was talking about Captain Robert Ryden, presumed dead at sea at the hands of pirates. "What do you want, Trevelyan? What do you think is in this cargo?"

"Ah, that's a violation of the rules. I'm the Inquisitor of this ship, I ask the questions. And only I can provide release."

She began touching him again, slower this time, teasing him more, this time with a stream of filthy commentary.

"I think you're a virgin, Commander. You're a virgin but I bet you could fuck all night. I can see it in your eyes, you'd like to rut me all night in my big comfy bed. I saw you looking at it. You think I haven't been observing every little thing about you? Even your sweat smells differently as I please you - "

Indira licked his neck and bit his earlobe. Cullen dangled from the ropes now, trying to get closer to her in any way. He managed to push his hair into her locks, taking a deep breath as she began stroking him more emphatically. She smelled so good and clean, not like your typical sailor. There was nothing typical about her, her words were hypnotizing, and worse yet, utterly true.

"You want to fuck me. You want to do things to me you didn't even dream of doing to your precious Meredith. Don't you want to know what my cunt tastes like, do you want to push my breasts together and slide your cock between them?"

Cullen could only groan in response. He was so aroused _it hurt_.

"I know you just want to hold me down and take me, but I think you'd like it if I was on top too, riding you hard, bouncing on you. You're not as traditional as you think. I bet you want to put it in my ass, don't you. You're filthy, you'd lick it first, put your tongue in it..."

"Please -"  
"Please what?"

Cullen had to moisten his lips before continuing. "I'll tell you what you want to know, just let me kiss you."

He saw the spark of surprise in her dark brown eyes as her twisted playfulness melted away and she was back to staring at him with the same look she gave him at the end of their duel when she had him down on his knees at the end of her sword. Indira raised the hand that was not pleasuring him and brushed her fingertips across the scar at the corner of his mouth, an old souvenir from his soldiering days, before tracing the line of his upper lip and then down his jaw.

Her lips rubbed against his for a moment, so they were breathing on each other, but with a dip of his head they connected and for the first time that night he heard her groan. The kiss deepened, he felt her tongue in his mouth and he responded in kind, hungry desire prompting him to taste as much of her as he could. Soon she had let go of his cock and was hanging on to the back of his neck with one hand, the other threading through his hair. She broke the kiss but kept her forehead pressed to his. 

"Cut me down. I want to - "  
"No. Tell me what I need to hear."  
  
Cullen wanted her to admit she longed for him too, even in the position he was in. "Tell _me_ you want me."

She kept her one hand on the back of his neck, still almost cradling him, as the other hand travelled south again to grip him and pull at him.

_"Tell me what I need to hear."_

It came spilling forth from his lips as her hand sped up and pumped him faster, everything about the two unauthorized trips, which merchant baron at the East Ferelden Company had commissioned him, approximately how many tons of cargo it could have been, what the crates looked like, what the logo might have looked like on their sides, how many crates there could have been, who was waiting for them in Highever, what they looked like, what kind of wagons whisked away the payload, what the weather was like that day, what he had for luncheon after he had delivered the goods: everything. And then he said other things, things he could not control and did not even think he could say, like how he wanted her to get down on her pretty knees and slide his staff deep into her mouth, how he longed to fuck her until she couldn't walk or speak, and if given the chance he'd fill her so full of his seed it would be trickling out of her and down her smooth brown thighs.

"Please -"  
"Please what, Commander?"  
"I need release. I've told you everything I know."

She let go of him again, making him whine and whimper. Indira looked deep into his eyes. 

"Swear your fealty to me. Swear you will do no harm to anyone on this ship."

Cullen didn't hesitate, and these words felt more significant than the ones he had said in the Chantry as he stood before Meredith. "I promise I will never hurt you."

Indira's deep brown eyes glittered at him before she surprised him with another deep kiss. He felt her hand wrap around his staff again to stroke him as her tongue lapped at the tip of his. The ecstasy he was feeling was sweet and hot, it was shooting through his veins, emanating from his heart and straight down to his cock. He moaned against her lips and felt his climax explode out of him as he spilled himself all over her hand and on himself. She nipped at the corner of his mouth as he gasped, breathing hard. 

"You alright?"

Cullen chuckled as a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face. "I'll live, I think."

She smiled to herself as she wiped off her hand with a napkin and then slid the knife out from under her sleeve so she could cut him down. Cullen rubbed his wrists and rolled his shoulders, watching her take his ledger, his letters and the map and put them in a drawer in her small writing desk which locked with a key. While he put his clothes back on he wondered what she was investigating in regards to his former employer. Her concern didn't seem to be motivated by general chaos and piracy. She was looking for something - or someone? Her questions had had desperate tinge to them. And now that he was unrestrained and dressed all the eroticism had drained out of the air and she was standing before him, looking at him like another deckhand. That was a little disappointing, if he had to be honest.

"I believe our business here is done. Grim's in the hallway, he'll take you back to the brig."

Cullen swallowed and then did something he hoped would knock her off balance, he wanted to get under her skin.

Before she could object, he took her hand lightly in his and bowed over it, letting his lips hover over her knuckles. He then stood up and bowed his head at her in deference. 

"Miss Trevelyan. I thank you for dinner, and wish you a good night."

Cullen smiled to himself as he exited her cabin. Earlier she had said nobody had called her Miss Trevelyan anymore, and he correctly surmised that no one had treated her like Miss Trevelyan in a long time as well.

The look of genuine surprise on her face had been exquisite.

* * * * *

The pirate who accompanied him back to the ship's brig pushed him back into his cell and locked him up with a grunt and left without anything else to say. Cass and Jim perked up and stepped to the bars of their cells. 

"Cullen, what did she do to you?"  
"She hurt you, Ser?"

Cullen coughed a little, thinking about how she had done the opposite of hurt him. "Ah, no, was just dinner. Between captains."

In the cell next to his, Blackwall laughed a knowing laugh.

"I know what she did to you. She does it to all the male prisoners she finds attractive, and a few of the female ones too. A warning - she toyed with your body first, she'll toy with your heart next. And when you're of no use to her anymore, she'll cast you aside but still demand your allegiance. This ship is full of her previous conquests, the ones that wanted to stay, the ones who didn't take it so hard. They'll die for her now, so don't cross her ever."

Cullen waited for the sonorous voice to continue, all three of them were listening intently.

"And whatever you do - do not fall in love with her."

Cullen took his officer's coat off and used it as a pillow as he pulled himself into the rope hammock provided to him. He was lucky, his cell had a porthole. He could see the stars outside and see the inky dark ocean around them. And he could still feel Indira's hands all over his body and remember how soft her lips were against his.

The man in the cell next to his could warn him all he wanted, he was already smitten with the woman who had just singlehandedly ruined his life. 

There was no use telling him that it was a little too late for that. 


	2. At the Helm

Cullen would not have admitted it with a pistol pointed at his head, but Indira had been right, it took only a few days for him to realize a pirate's life was a good one indeed, although he suspected the crew of the Inquisition was quite different from the others that fly the skull and crossbones from their top mast. Nobody abused him, or Jim and Cassandra, they were put to work right away but treated well. He expected himself and his friends to be ostracized but everyone was nothing but engaging, and if anything, overly chatty and ready to drink no matter the time of day or the task at hand. He was also surprised the pirates were so well-informed. They seemed to know what goods were wanted where better than anyone at his former trade company and he was fascinated to observe the pirates even trading amongst themselves at sea. With an expert's hand, Iron Bull would pull up starboard to another pirate ship, close enough for a gang plank to be laid down, and India and the other ship's captain would trade goods, depending on who was sailing where. It was an illicit economy, with the thieves maximizing their profits and working in a small, trusted network. Cullen was astonished by the Inquisition's industriousness, and by his own feelings. Not being captain for once was a bit of a paradise, it was downright relaxing to not know or care where they were going, although he suspected they were heading toward Estwatch Island, a fairly lawless place known for its hired mercs and rowdy portside town. Cullen melted into the crew faster than he expected too, going from skulking around the brig and mess hall to overseeing the cleaning and recalibration of the ship's cannons. He hadn't expected them to trust him and his friends so easily and he didn't quite understand it - but there was an irrational part of him that wondered if it was because Indira Trevelyan was indeed, attracted to him, and that night in her quarters had been on her mind as much as it had been on his. There was no way to know though - she kept to her cabin more often than not.  He wondered what she was up to, what she was searching for. And then as soon as he had fixated on her, he tried to steer his thoughts in the right direction, toward a possible escape in Estwatch. 

Did he want to escape? They had already stopped locking the door to his cell. Yesterday Cullen had been helping with the ship's rigging when he paused in his work to look out at the ocean around him. Maybe he had escaped already. Maybe he hadn't liked his previous life too much, reporting to men who took most of the profits and didn't care when one of his sailors broke an arm or grew sick during his duty. But there was still this gnawing guilt inside of him about Meredith's fate. He hadn't cared for her, not one bit, but he knew her father treasured her, and he felt honor-bound to tell him some comforting lie about what had happened to her. Every night when the crew drank itself into a jolly oblivion, he convinced himself to ignore his new feelings for these rough-mannered but kind strangers, and return to the Ferelden Trade Company to set things right and restore some fraction of his reputation as a sailor and a gentleman.

As the ship drew closer to her destination, the Inquisition’s already slipshod discipline eroded faster, the crew was hungry for a little solid land and even more carousing than they engaged in on a daily basis. Cullen sat with Jim at a quieter end of the ship’s little mess hall listening to the pirates talking about their plans for the coin they would earn in Estwatch once Indira had sold off everything in the ship’s hold and divided the profits evenly amongst her crew. Their comments swung from drunken compliments about Indira and detailed daydreams about the two or three days they’d spend in port.

“Bull and I are going straight to the bathhouse and then checking into a comfortable inn. And then we shall spend the three days in Estwatch feeding each other strawberries and testing the strength of our four poster bed."

Sera rolled her eyes at this as she rythmically dropped the point of a dagger between her splayed fingers resting on the table in front of her. “You two only think about things involving beds. What’s the fun in doing what you just always do?”

Dorian leaned forward to try to snatch the dagger out of her hand, annoyed by the sound of her game. “And what are your plans? _You’re_ going to sit on a window ledge eating cakes and whistling at people so they walk into lamp posts, that’s what you always do.”

Sera kept playing with her dagger, flicking it into the air and letting it land between her scarred fingers. “Nah, I want a new bow. And a new lute. And a new vest. I’m going shopping, then I’m going to eat all the weird foods from the street vendors. Maybe something with a beak.”

“Ugh, you're disgusting, you're going to get sick again and I'm going to end up taking care of you!”

Cullen dodged the hard piece of bread Sera had flung at Dorian that had travelled the length of the mess hall. Jim grabbed it off the floor and ate it greedily. Cullen made a face at him. They had been fed pretty well but Jim seemed to always be hungry.

“Think they’ll let us off the boat, Ser?”  
“Jim, I’ve told you twenty times, I’m not the captain anymore, you don’t have to keep calling me Ser.”  
“Force of habit, Ser. Think they’ll give us any coin? We’ve been helping out and following orders. And they were our goods to begin with.” 

Cullen poked a finger through a hole in the sleeve of his tattered officer’s coat and dropped his voice. “Don’t think so, Jim. But I will say this much - if they let us off this boat, you and I should try to make a run for it.”

Jim wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Really? Think we could pull it off?”

“Should be easy to simply hide and not come back to the boat. Lay low until they push off, and then get on any other law-abiding boat heading back to Denerim.”

Jim looked toward another corner of the mess hall, where Cass was sitting with Varric, arguing over some pages of a manuscript with him, the dwarf shaking his head ‘no’ at everything Cass was saying to him.

“What about Pentaghast?”  
“I don’t know, never expected her to act like this. She and that Varric have become inseparable in less than a fortnight”  
“Think she loves him, Ser?”

Cullen looked up in time to see Cassandra flinging pages everywhere while Varric laughed and tried to catch them midair. “Does that look like love to you?”

Jim shrugged. “Love looks like lots of things, don’t it. You didn’t look like you loved the Lady Meredith, but you did love her, right, Ser?”

Cullen downed the rest of the brandy in his mug. It was the last of the liquor from the barrels they had taken from Calenhad’s Pride, before they used her for target practice and sunk her. “Aye, I did.” It was easy to lie to Jim, and he seemed to like lies especially if they made understanding something a little easier. When Cullen looked up at him though, the young man was smiling at him in a sly way. “Why’d you lie then, Ser? What was the point of it?”

Jim’s question reminded him so strongly of the one single night he had spent tied up in Indira’s quarters. Just thinking about the taste of her tongue in his mouth made him take Jim’s mug away from him and drink it down.

“Jim, I’m going to get back to Lord Holden and make things right, somehow, some way. He entrusted me with his only child and she died in my care, and she was my wife. These are things I shant forget simply because we met some pirates who - “

Before he could finish his sentence, Cole had approached the two of them, carrying a stewpot by its handle.

“May I offer you the last two potatoes in the pot? Everyone else is quite, quite drunk already.”

Jim nodded away with his bowl held out. Cullen gave Cole a kind look. “Give him both of them, I’m fine.”

As Cole ladled the first potato into Jim’s bowl, the ship gently lurched portside. Cullen looked around, puzzled, but no one else seemed to notice - and then his eyes landed on Iron Bull’s enormous feet, poking out from under the table near Dorian. 

Wait a moment, if he was lying there, passed out - then who was at the helm?

Cullen pushed his chair back, wound his way through the crowded mess hall full of intoxicated pirates and headed above deck.

* * * * *

On deck, all was quiet, everyone was mostly drinking in the mess hall or already snoring away in their hammocks below. Cullen strode to the upper deck and found Krem struggling to stay awake - and keep the ship on course.

"Krem, go to bed, you're a better gunner than you are sailing master. I can take over."

Krem rubbed his face and revealed he had been steering with one hand, the other still holding a ceramic jug, presumably full of brandy or rum. "Aye, thought I could make it a few hours, but - "

Cullen pulled his compass from his jacket and checked it. If they were sailing to Estwatch, they were heading too far east and needed to get back on course. Cullen took a step toward the helm but saw a flicker of distrust on the young man's face.

"I don't know, perhaps I should wake the captain, she'd - "

Cullen had to force himself not to reach out and grab Krem by the shirt to shake him. "No, don't you dare. Let her rest. Never disturb your captain unless it's necessary." As he watched Krem ponder this bit of Ferelden discipline, Cullen wondered what she looked like, tucked into that big bed of hers. Wanton woman, did she sleep in the nude? What did she look like in the morning right before you pulled her back into your arms?

Krem shook his head, having made his decision. "Right, I'm off then, just - keep steering her that way."

Cullen moved his arm so he was pointing north in the proper direction. "You mean this way?"

Krem squinted at the stars and then waved them off as though they were no help. "You're the one with the compass. 'Night, Curly."

Cullen took the wheel from him and steered the Inquisition in the right direction. He thought about how much his life had changed in a fortnight and how much it could change again. He closed his eyes for just a moment, and thought of Denerim, and how he would walk into the East Ferelden Trade Company and he could start over again. These pirates would forget all about him.

Indira would certainly forget all about him. Judging by how often he had seen her since that first night, she had forgotten about him already.

* * * * *

Hours went by, under the inky sky, sparkling with pin points of starlight, and it was just Cullen and the gentle creaking of the ship and the silent sea around him. He felt a contentment he rarely felt, the contentment of the moment going by. He was used to a life of planning and paperwork, maps and ledgers. He had never even steered his Calenhad's Pride while it was under command, and now he savored the pull of the ocean against the helm under his hands. He just hoped no one would discover him, misread his intentions, and -

"What are you doing up here?"

Cullen felt his cheeks flush as he finally learned what Indira Trevelyan wore to bed. She had padded up to the upper deck in her bare feet, in thin cotton bloomers that stopped at her knees, topped with a ruffled, off the shoulder blouse, trimmed with pretty lace. It was more feminine than he expected, and he was hard pressed not to stare at the the tips of her nipples, showing through the fabric. She hugged herself, rubbing her own arms to keep warm as she approached him.

"Miss Trevelyan, you'll catch your death out here. Would you like my coat?"

She walked up to him with a grin. "I don't think I'll need it..."

Indira ducked beneath one of his arms so she was between him and the helm of the ship and then put her hands on the wheel, next to his, so they could steer together. At first Cullen wasn't sure she'd let him get so close to her, but she was the one who pressed her back against his chest, bringing her backside right against his hips. Cullen decided to take a chance - he pushed his nose into her hair and inhaled. He heard her respond with a soft, affectionate laugh as she leaned toward his lips.

"Why are you steering my ship, former Captain Rutherford?"  
"Bull is passed out in the mess hall, Krem tried to take over but was falling asleep, and everyone else did not think to seize the responsibility."  
"Everyone save you."

They stood like that in an amiable silence for a while, drinking in the perfect night around them until a chilly wind made her shiver and instinctively he let go of the wheel with one hand, putting it on her hip and drawing her closer so she was tucked under his coat a bit more - but before he could put his hand back on the wheel she pressed her hand on top of his.

"No, keep it there. I give you my permission."

Cullen was drunk on being close to her, and the days he had spent fixating on their one night together made him feel brazen, so he decided to nuzzle her earlobe with his lips. Indira leaned into his touch, all while keeping her eyes on the sea on front of him. He wanted to say something clever, make her laugh, but he was also cautious and nervous. She was letting him touch her, why ruin it with a string of poorly chosen words. Still, he tried more than once, stammering out an "I..." and then letting the sentence die.

"You're not much of a conversationalist, are you Rutherford?"  
"I can be. I'm just - concentrating on a few things at the same time."

Cullen held back a gasp as Indira guided his hand under her blouse. "What things?"

His fingers, lead by hers, travelled up the swell of her breast. "The - wind? And..."

Cullen swallowed as she felt her hand press into his and make him cup her. She then put her hand back on the wheel in front of her. "And?"

"And..." He gently squeezed her breast and used his thumb to brush against the tip of it. When she emitted a delicious groan, he impulsively let go of the wheel with his other hand and cupped her other breast. He kneaded, caressed her flesh, flicked and played with her nipples until she was squirming against him. 

And then he put his hands back on the wheel, next to hers.

She was not the only one who could tease, and the brazen harlot could not have what she wanted simply by walking up to him in her bloomers. Cullen smiled to himself at the little sound of shock she made before she turned around to face him.

"Excuse me!"  
"Yes, captain? I am trying to get us to Estwatch by morning. The wind out of the north is a little troublesome, and I must say - you are being awfully distracting." Cullen forced himself to keep his eyes on the horizon, and not at the bewitching woman he had currently framed between his arms who was pouting up at him in an adorable fashion.

"Cullen!"

The childish tone in her voice made something snap inside of him. Perhaps it was his own masculine dignity, or just the frustration of wanting someone who was too busy to even look at him.

"I am not your plaything, Indira. I am a man. And - I am busy guiding your ship towards its destination. Is there something you need?"

She gave him a little head shake, as though she were still considering his words - and then she put her palm right against the obvious erection in his breeches. "I know that you are a man."

Even though he had to fight every atom in his body to do so, he brushed her hand away from him. "I've barely seen you since the day you slaughtered most of my crew, murdered my innocent wife, stole my goods, sunk my ship, and then tied me up and humiliated me. Why should I - "

She grinned at him, catlike and playful. "Was that humiliating? I thought we were having fun."

Cullen said nothing, and kept his eyes on the ocean. He would not be undone by her charms. He was not a mindless vessel being pulled on a current toward an inevitable shore. He could control this situation.

"Mmm, it's sweet how hurt you are that I haven't asked you to return to my quarters."  
"That's not what I said at all."  
"Oh, but it is."

Indira turned back around, nestling back between his arms to help him navigate the ship, once again making sure she was pressed against him in all the right places. 

"Cullen, I couldn't exactly invite you to dinner in my quarters every single night. How would my crew take that? Openly _fraternizing_ with a prisoner we had just captured? Besides, I wanted you to see how you took to living with us. I wagered you were going to jump overboard at your first chance and swim all the way back to Ferelden."

He bristled at this idea. "I am no coward, Miss Trevelyan."  
"I never said that. But you seem the sort to want to explain yourself to your betters, especially when you could not follow through the orders you were given."

Cullen realized she was a very good judge of character, she had been able to read his heart somehow, she knew he wanted to make things right with Lord Holden. When she spoke again, her voice was soft and devoid of its usual jesting. "Cullen, if you wish to leave us, you may do so once we make port." She tipped her head back, letting it rest on his chest. "I will look the other way and we will push off without you. And perhaps, one day, our paths will cross again."

The idea of standing before Lord Holden's desk in his tattered officer's uniform to explain himself drifted away as she guided his right hand back to her hip. One of his fingers landed on a bit of her bare skin between her bloomers and her lacy blouse. Without her guidance this time, he let his hand sweep across her stomach. Maker, her flesh was so soft. He longed to see her spread out on a bed, so he could touch every inch of her, with his hands, his lips his tongue. He was pulled away from that tantalizing image when he realized her hand was guiding his lower, beneath the waistband of her bloomers.

He murmured against her ear again. "Indira?"

"Let go of the wheel and touch me, Cullen. I can steer."

He obeyed her, letting both his hands do what they wanted. He greedily jammed his hands under her blouse to cup her breasts again and tweak her nipples, something that coaxed sweet little sighs out of her and made her squirm against him. She was too much, he wanted to possess her, he wanted to please her - but he also didn't want to go too far without her permission. 

"What do you want, Indira, show me..."  
  
She laughed at him, low and throaty. "I think it's more fun if you figure it out, Cullen." 

Cullen decided to do a few things he wanted to do while he figured it out. He grabbed the firm globes of her ass and kneaded them, he swept his finger tips up and down her arms just to give her gooseflesh, he moved the hair off her neck so he could kiss a trail up and down her skin there. Indira kept her eyes on the sea before them, sometimes popping up on her toes to give him more access to her, but she gave him no further instructions. Did she want him to be bold? He really didn't know her, and all he wanted to do was find out what was going on in that head of hers - and give her the pleasure she sought.

Cullen held his breath as he let one hand slip beneath the waistband of her bloomers.

Indira laughed to herself. "Finally."  
  
He exhaled as his fingers landed on the patch of hair between her legs, and when they grew more curious, Cullen almost shuddered from head to toe when he felt wetness against his fingertips. With a gentle glide, two of his fingers were soon covered in her arousal, and she groaned and arched her back against him.

Indira dipped her head back to look at him. "More."

His eyes opened wide as she moved her hips in a little circle against his hand. "Please, Cullen."

He clenched his jaw, still moving his fingers. "I should make you beg."  
"I can beg."  
"Let me hear it then, Indira."

In a little whisper, she pleaded with him, a little string of _pleases_ that wound around the core of him like a little spell. Sometimes her begging flattened out into a happy, hungry moan, sometimes her lips moved but no sound came out, and Cullen took all his cues from her reactions, moving his hand in accordance. When he worked two fingers against her in a steady rhythm, she twitched hard. It made Cullen wrap an arm around her middle to keep her steady, while he kept flicking at her. Then he went faster, and faster, echoing how she had pleased him the night she had tied him up.

"You stopped begging, Captain."  
"Please, please, Cullen, I'm going to - "

Cullen decided a little payback was in order. It was the rule of law on her ship, the pirates never let a prank go unanswered, or an insult, or a threat. Did she truly believe every thrust of a sword or dagger, every pistol pointed, should be answered in kind?

Cullen stilled his hand, aware of how his fingers were slippery from the pleasure he had drawn from her. Indira writhed in his arms, almost growling at him in frustration.

"Cullen!"  
"Yes, captain."

Indira let go of the wheel, letting the ship list a little toward the east, just so she could press his hand harder against her cunt. "Don't stop, why did you stop?"

"Hands on the helm, Miss Trevelyan, unless you wish to sail us toward the Sunset Sea."

He smiled to himself as she panted. "I'll have you lashed for this."  
"Will you do the lashing?"

Indira's fingers joined his and now he couldn't help it, he groaned against her ear. Her hungry desire was as delicious as the wine she had served him in her quarters. 

"Rutherford, you'll pay for this, I'll make you -"

Cullen circled his fingers again over that hot point between her thighs that made her quiver every time he touched it. "You'll make me what? For once I have the right to demand something."

He stopped touching her again, even removing his fingers from between her folds and simply resting them on her mound. He tilted his head closer to her, listening to her breathing heavy. He counted the seconds, wondering how patient she could be, or angry, or if she wanted her release as badly as he wanted his. Cullen let his other hand slip back under her blouse to toy with her nipple again while she considered the possibilities. 

"Demand away, Cullen. I'm willing to wait for my payback for your insolence in this - "

He cut her off when he he let the index finger of the hand in her bloomers slip between her folds, brushing against the core of her. "What do you want, Cullen? What do you want?"

"I want to lay with you. I want to take my time with you."

Indira answered too fast for his taste. "No. You haven't earned that privilege, not by far."

"And what must I do to be in your good graces, Indira?" He gave her another stroke of his fingers, reminding her what was at stake. She was so close to her release that she could only whisper at him now. "Kill a man in my service, defend my life, my code - and I will reward you with my body, but, I don't think you shall have that chance tonight."

Cullen still had his middle finger pressed right her and she writhed against his hand again. "Duly noted, but what are we going to do about the condition you're in at this very moment? You are in quite the state right now, Miss Trevelyan."

She gushed more of her sweet arousal against his hand. She heaved a heavy sigh as he squeezed her tight, one hand kneading a breast, the other still toying with her sex. "I'll please you back Cullen, let me please you back. I promise, I'll -"

Cullen chuckled against her ear, "A pirate's promises mean nothing to me." 

She turned her head toward him as much as she could, taking her eyes off the sea so he could see her dark brown eyes were full of sincerity and anguish. "No no no, I swear, on my honor, as - a lady."

He laughed again but let his fingers speed back up, vibrating them against her, making her twitch and groan louder than she had all night. Cullen took it all in, the sight of her hanging on to wheel, on the edge of her release, lips parted, gooseflesh up and down her arms, her eyes closed in total abandon. She was so lovely in this moment and he wished it could last forever, but it did not take Indira long to gasp and arch her back against him as she let a few filthy swears escape from her lips and she grew stiff, and then relaxed, in his arms. A slight breeze blew against both of them, pushing the hair off her face. Cullen removed his hand from her, his fingers and even the palm of his hand, utterly covered in her wetness. He was looking at that hand in a daze when Indira let go of the wheel completely and spun around to face him. He grabbed the wheel with the hand he hadn't used to please her, putting the ship back on course. She wordlessly dropped to her knees before him, undid his breeches and freed his aching manhood. She looked up at him with a fiery, intense look.

"Taste me, while I taste you."

She kept her eyes on him as she slid his cock into her mouth. Cullen stared at her sucking him deeply, and then pulling back to swipe her tongue around the head of his cock. She gripped him with one hand, giving him a few pumps with her fist. "Taste me. I'm all over your fingers."

Cullen groaned as he licked one finger, and then the next one, all while she bobbed her head up and down on his cock. Her cunt was salty and sweet at the same time, better than the freshest oysters he had once enjoyed at Lord Holden's table. He longed to savor more of her, especially as she took her mouth off of him for a moment to give his balls a few swipes of her tongue. He just had to watch her doing all these things to him, and he gave up on steering the ship in any proper direction. He kept his eyes on her as she dipped her head on him over and over again, sucking and licking, slurping and drooling all over his manhood. He boldly put one hand on the back of her head and pushed his cock deep into her mouth until he felt her want to draw back. Indira looked up with him with watery eyes as he repeated this move again, making her take him, fucking her mouth messily. She maintained her steady eye contact with him as she slid the little sleeves of her blouse down over her shoulders, so her full breasts were out and free to his gaze. That was enough, he went tumbling over the edge, spilling his seed on her tongue. In a daze he watched her open her mouth to show him what he had done, before she closed it again and swallowed. Cullen blinked a few times before looking back at the sea, saying a little prayer to himself. Maker help him, he was a terrible sinner, and Indira Trevelyan had awoken within him a hungry yearning to _do more sinning_.

She stood up, pulling up her blouse and standing close to him again. Indira tilted her head toward him, a small sign he could lean down to kiss her. He luxuriated in it, wrapping an arm around her waist. To his proud delight, she let him kiss her for a long time, who knows where the ship was going now, let them run ashore for all he cared - 

"Are you two finished yet?"

Iron Bull's deep voice interrupted his tongue dancing against the tip of hers. Cullen straightened up, let go of her and put his hands back on the wheel. Indira gave him a knowing smile before ducking beneath his arms and stepping away.

"As finished as we could be - for now. And where have you been, friend?"  
"I'm sorry, boss. The night got away from me, as much as it has for you."

Indira only laughed to herself as she walked away, back to her quarters without a last look at him over her shoulder. Watching her leave felt like a song fading away, note by note, until Bull had to cough to draw him back to the present.

"She's in love with someone else, you know. I feel compelled to tell you for some reason. You're a good sort, Rutherford. You don't deserve to have your heart stepped on and kicked overboard."

He reeled a bit. "In love with who?"

Bull gave the wheel a jaunty jerk to the left, putting them back on course. "Ah, what difference does it make? We all know you and that squirrely friend of yours are going to disappear once we make port. Indira's a softie, she often lets her prisoners go as soon as they've given a chance."

"What about Blackwall?"

Bull laughed. "You ever check to see if his cell door is locked? We're all devoted to Indira Trevelyan, some more than others, and some never got over having her love and then losing it."

* * * * *

A few moments later Cullen was back in the brig. He stood on the other side of the bars from Blackwall, who was asleep in his hammock. He had scratched the amount of days he had been imprisoned into the wood of the ship next to him, and there were too many days to count. Jim was also passed out, and Cass sleeping in Varric's cabin, although he hadn't figured out if she had found her way into his bed yet. 

Cullen reached a tentative hand out, and pulled on the door to Blackwall's cell. Bull was not telling tall tales, Blackwall's cell was unlocked. He had been taking his punishment even though he had been offered freedom. He was a member of the crew like the rest of them. They would all die for Indira, and why? Because she was ruthless but kind, cruel but beautiful. 

Cullen slept deeply, the echoes of her moans of pleasure haunting his dreams all night long.

* * * * *

The next day, they made port in Estwatch, the crew jubilant and excited. Indira unloaded the goods she had stolen from Cullen mere minutes after they dropped anchor, and each pirate - even Cullen and Jim - stepped off the boat with a handful of gold coins jingling in his or her pockets. 

Indira laid the coins in the palm of Cullen's hand. She tried to speak to him as she had to everyone else, but Cullen detected a small tinge of regret in her voice.

"Goodbye, Cullen. We will push off in two days, at noon. I expect I will not see you again."

He bowed over her hand, like a gentleman, but said nothing in return. And when Jim lead him into town, looking for a noticeboard that would hopefully have a posting about work that could take them back to Ferelden, he kept thinking about Indira. 

Would he spend the rest of his life thinking about her, if he did not get back on the Inquisition in 48 hours? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me at thetemplarandtherogue.tumblr.com - I post lots of images that spur my writing. Let's be fan fiction friends!


	3. In Estwatch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH SORRY, ALL STORY, NO SMUT. SMUT NEXT TIME. I SWEAR ON ANDRASTE'S SILKY KNICKERS

Cullen had never been so conflicted about a decision in all his life.

Jim had to take control once they were back on land again, something he wasn't exactly used to. They checked out the port town's various message boards, hoping for a little gainful employment that would take them home, back to Ferelden, but the only work available was of the mercenary variety. The rest of the postings were about the taverns, brothels, gambling halls, and flophouses that constituted this rough and lively port town. 

Cullen saw something else on one of those boards that troubled him - Indira's wanted poster, hanging right next to a second one for another pirate - Raleigh Samson. Indira had been rendered with a vindictive snarl instead of her trickster smile he now knew so well. "Black Raleigh" was rakishly handsome, even with a scar running down one of his cheeks, and Cullen had a sinking feeling that this was the man everyone had been warning him about, the pirate Indira had given her heart to. They looked like they belonged together, and whoever had pinned up their notices had even placed them flush next to each other. They were a pair of rogues, where did he figure in their world? Shouldn't he return to where he belonged, to polite, law-abiding society? 

Cullen thought about these things while drinking away the last gold coins he had in his possession. Jim was at a loss for what to do with his former captain, deep in his cups, forlorn and silent. He tried to help by going out and finding him some paper, ink and a quill, hoping he'd settle in and write to Lord Holden, but the items sat untouched between them in the quietest pub they could find.

"Ser, shouldn't we -"  
"I don't know."

Jim took a tiny sip of his ale. He had been conserving his currency, not knowing what laid ahead of them. They had only twelve hours before the Inquisition would depart and Cullen was giving him no sign about what they were going to do.

"You worried Lord Holden won't welcome you back?"  
"Of course. Or worse yet, he might want to put me in chains for being grossly negligent with his only daughter. I don't know. I deserve it. How daft were we to be sailing without our own mage on board? My arrogance - "

Jim interrupted him. "Weren't your fault, Ser. That's company policy, you know how them Ferelden aristos feel about magic. The days of the Circles might be behind us but that don't mean they'll be letting their daughters marry a magic user, or be in their employ."

Cullen tipped his mug back and finished off his ale. Jim noticed a few tavern wenches looking at him in appreciation. Even in this shambling, disheveled state his former commander was still charming, and despite the condition of his clothing, he still very much looked like a gentleman. Jim got a new idea in his head.

"Ser. Perhaps a quick visit to that brothel we passed earlier would help you - gather your thoughts."

Cullen gestured to the bartender with a scowl and pushed his mug toward him. "Do you really think having a cheap ten minute tumble with an Estwatch whore will help clear my mind? Besides. I need that money."

"For what?"

He scowled. "For drinking."

Jim was beginning to lose his patience. Cullen would have never guessed it, but Jim was secretly in favor of buying himself a jaunty hat with the rest of his money and hopping back on the Inquisition, but Cullen was too conflicted about returning to the pirates. Jim couldn't leave him behind. He was devoted to the cranky but kind man who had been his superior for many years, so he gathered his to address what was so obviously bothering Cullen.

"Ser, is this about Miss Trevelyan?"

Cullen inhaled, and then rubbed his face, frustrated. "I'm a bloody fool, Jim. I've lost my mind. She murdered my wife. She's murdered other people and stolen their possessions. They're all killers, Jim. And we sat at their table and broke bread with them."

"Because they offered, Ser. They're a lot kinder than most I've known, killers or not. I am very sorry about Mrs. Rutherford though. She didn't deserve such a fate, but..."

Cullen looked up at his friend in surprise. "But  _what_?"

"You don't have to believe anything they told me, but Indira doesn't do that very often. She usually takes prisoners and frees them at the next port, that's what Krem said, and while I've only known him for a short time, he struck me as a good sort." 

Cullen mulled over his words, spinning a coin on the the table between them. "What are you saying, Jim? Out with it."

He watched Jim squirm a bit before he looked up at Cullen, square in the eyes. "Perhaps she had her reasons for doing so. Maybe Indira had some issue with Lord Holden or the Ferelden Trade Company. Perhaps it was payback, perhaps there was a reason for - "

"There was no reason for it."

Jim made a sound of annoyance. "Well, if you believe that, then write to Lord Holden and get us out of here, we're going to run out of money soon and I don't know if we'll find any work in this godless place."

One of the girls who had been eyeing Cullen the entire time he had been sulking in the corner came to refill his mug. "We're not godless, we're proper Andrastians and there's a chantry in the middle of town. It's not grand, but it's all we've got." She leaned over more, giving the men a chance to look at her bosom, about to burst forth from her corset, but Cullen wasn't interested. He had lit up when she mentioned the chantry though, and Jim sighed, realizing where they were headed next.

It took them a few tries before they found the dusty chapel, at the end of a quiet thoroughfare far from the more disreputable businesses closer to the port. It was so out of use that the hinges on the door had rusted shut and they had to force it open. Inside they found a set of pews, a lot of cobwebs, and a wooden statue of Andraste.

Cullen turned to Jim. "You needn't stay. Go enjoy yourself. And get on that boat tomorrow, with or without me. I sense it's what you want to do."

Jim crossed his arms, making Cullen sigh with annoyance. "No, Ser. I'll only go if you go. And if you go back to Ferelden, I'll go too."

"Jim..."  
  
His young steward ignored him and picked a pew in the back, settling in with a stubborn look on his face.

"Jim, I intend to pray - all night. It's something we used to do in the Templar service, and I shall do it again. The answer will come to me."  
"And I'm going to sleep back here while you do so."

Cullen gave up and focused on the task at hand instead. He dropped to his knees before the altar, closed his eyes, and prayed.

 _Andraste give me strength, send me home on a good strong wind._  
  
_Restore me, and grant me the courage to deny my basest instincts._

Cullen paused. He leaned his head on the altar in front of him.  
  
_Maker help me, I'm in love with her and yet I know such a woman will never love me back._

* * * * *

Hours later, Jim shook Cullen awake. He had fallen asleep during his vigil, something he would have never done as a Knight-Captain. 

"Ser, the Inquisition pushes off very soon. Have you made up your mind?"

Cullen felt for his pocket watch and looked at the time. "Maker's tits, Jim! We'll never make it."

Jim hooted with delight and then quickly found himself running out of the small chantry right behind his master. They tore through town, pushing people aside, weaving their way through the crowded cobblestone streets. Cullen felt his heart take flight when he saw the tall masts of the Inquisition still in the harbor, but as they ran down the pier toward her gangplank, he sensed something was wrong. Varric and Bull were arguing on deck, surrounded by the rest of the crew, also bickering among themselves.

Cullen put one foot down on the deck, and everyone froze, turned and looked at him.

"YOU."

Bull pointed a gigantic finger at him. Cullen did not step his second foot onto the deck - after all, he had seen Iron Bull take two of his men and knock their heads together like they were toy soldiers in his hands. Cullen swallowed with fear as Bull took three big steps toward him.

"Where. Is. She?"

Fearless Cass spoke up for him. "Why would he know?"

Bull snorted. "Because I saw him a few nights ago with the Inquisitor on the upper deck, she was down on her knees, with his - "

Cullen put his hands up to stop him. "Ah, there's no need, to, to, to  _tell,_ everyone, about - "

"He's her current favorite, so he must know something about her whereabouts!"

Cullen looked around at Indira's crew. They were all very worried, not a soul was responding to this matter with their usual lighthearted jesting and wit. "I was under the impression that Estwatch was a safe port for pirates and mercenaries. Do you think she was taken in by the authorities, say, the Fereldan or Orlesian navies?"

Varric waved away this possibility. "Those starchy bastards don't dock in Estwatch, they know better than to even try. But there is still the very real possibility of bounty hunters finding her."

"We've already checked her usual haunts in town, nobody's seen her."

An anxious silence fell over them all. Cullen put together as many clues as he could. He knew Indira believed the Ferelden Trade Company was smuggling something off their books, possibly illegal or dangerous. He intuited her interest in this had nothing to do with financial gain, and whatever they were smuggling and what they were up to was keeping her up at night, studying his ledgers and the ledgers of other ships she had captured. 

Cullen addressed Varric, her quartermaster. "Varric, did she ever give you any guidance in this sort of matter, what to do if she didn't return, if she - "  
  
"She always told us to leave without her, save our own skins over hers, but - "

Sera finished the sentiment for him. "It's the only command of hers we don't obey."

Cullen paced the deck, wondering if he should speak up about Indira's secret. He felt like his connection to her was so tenuous, and mostly based on the sheer physical attraction they felt for each other. He didn't want to do anything to upset her or cause her to never touch him again, but if she was in any trouble...

He paused and realized everyone was watching him and not with distrust or suspicion. They were looking at him like he was their next choice for leader. 

"I noticed upon my arrival that Miss Trevelyan locks up her writing desk at night. I am not positing the idea that we - "

Sera's face lit up with hope. " - pick the lock and see what she's been writing in her journal!"

Cullen tried to put up his hands to stop her, stating he didn't know she had a journal, he was suggesting they look at the ledgers and maps she had been studying, but it was too late, Dorian and Sera were dashing toward Indira's cabin, giggling with conspiratorial glee. Cullen looked at Iron Bull who just shrugged and sighed.  
  
"They've been wanting to do this for a while."

* * * * *

Cullen, Varric and Cass waited outside of Indira's cabin while they listened to the whispers of Dorian and Sera inside.  The rest of the pirates milled around on the ship, keeping an eye out for any sign they should stay or go, or hoping to see Indira walking up the pier as though nothing had been wrong. 

Cullen watched as Varric and Cass made sympathetic eye contact with each other. She huffed a sigh and leaned against the wall behind her, and Varric did the same, mimicking her body language almost perfectly. Cullen shook his head and smiled at her.

"I never expected you to fall into line with pirates, and so quickly, Cassandra."  
  
She made a sound of disbelief. "Look who's talking. Do you know we were all betting on whether you'd come back today or not?"

Varric gave Cullen a sour grin. "I lost twenty silver crowns because of you, Curly."

Cass gave Varric a triumphant smile while she patted a purse tied to her belt. "They're in here, right now, along with a lot more coin. I'm the only one who believed you'd come back, Cullen. The odds were incredibly against me and so you've made me flush with wealth."

Varric pressed his ear to the door when it seemed like Sera and Dorian had raised their voices, and Cass took the opportunity to say something, only for Cullen's ears.

"You're in love with her, aren't you."  
"Now is not the time to discuss such matters, Cassandra."

An anguished look appeared on her face, the same one she always wore after reading a cliffhanger at the end of one of Varric's novels. "It certainly is!"

Cullen was about to snap back at her that his life was not a series of exciting adventures punctuated by bodice ripping and messy snogging but Sera swung open the door and stopped him. 

"Well? Did you find any clue as to what Miss Trevelyan could be - "

"I'm bloody worried now. Really fucking worried actually."

Cullen peered over the petite elf's shoulder and saw Dorian closing her diary and putting it back into her writing desk, not before tidying everything with careful, respectful hands.

"Dorian?"  
"Life is strange. You spend a lot of time wondering about something, and then when you find out the why of it all, and it only makes you sad."

Before anyone could ask further questions, Dorian continued while sitting down at the small table where Cullen had enjoyed dinner with Indira. "I'd say at least two or three months back, we were at the port in Ostwick, close enough to where her family lives. She came back to the ship one night in a dark, depressed mood. Since that night, she's been different. Preoccupied. Obsessed with something she would not talk to any of us about."

Dorian paused. It was too long of a pause to be just one of his dramatic storytelling devices. He inhaled before speaking again.

"According to her diary, she had found out one of her sisters had died, her youngest one, Elinor - they had found her body in a back alley in the red light district. She had been stabbed, and it sounds like she had ran up debts - at a local red lyrium emporium."

Both Cullen and Cassandra gasped, Varric and Sera looked both confused and heartbroken for their captain, their friend.

"RED lyrium? I've not - "

Dorian shook his head, interrupting him. "You would not know since most of your trade is of the legal variety, or at least it's supposed to be. Red lyrium has since replaced opium as the number one smuggled item around Thedas. But unlike opium, or even the lyrium they gave you in the Templar service, red lyrium is highly addictive, even after one dose. You can smoke it or ingest it, chop it up and snort it. Such a tragic thing happening in a noble family must mean it is a rather serious epidemic. One that is spreading quickly and quietly."

He handed two scraps of fading newspaper to Cullen. Indira had torn out her sister's obituary. Her family had lied and said she was set upon by ruthless robbers, while doing charity work in the rougher part of town. The second piece of paper was an opinion column, also focused on the younger Miss Trevelyan's death. The paper went out of its way to blame immigrants from Ferelden for the increase in crime in the coastal city and said nothing about lyrium, red or blue or otherwise.

Cullen looked at everyone gathered around him. "Indira was very intent on asking me about illicit shipments my company might have been undertaking. Do you think she thinks the red lyrium is spreading everywhere - via these sort of means? It is a rather grave accusation, to believe members of the aristocracy like my late wife's father are nothing but petty drug smugglers."

They all let him stew in this idea for a minute until Cass gave voice to something deep down in his heart. "Cullen, you will remember that our former employers held only one thing in the highest regard: profit."

Cullen shook off her words for a moment as he pivoted back to their current problem. "We haven't time for this right now, we must find Indira. She might have been looking for a place selling red lyrium here in Estwatch."

Sera nodded, and Dorian stood up with renewed energy. Still, they all looked to him to lead and he had no problem with it.

"A skeleton crew will stay behind and have the ship ready to push off at a moment's notice. The rest of us will break into small teams and comb the town."

"How will we signal to each other that one group has found her if we're spread out all over Estwatch?" Cass asked, always one to remember all the details, something Cullen always expected of her sharp mind.

Dorian piped up now. "Give me about a quarter of an hour at my crafter's table. Quick, let us delay no further. I have a bad feeling about this."

* * * * *

True to his word, Dorian had a crafted a set of enchanted signals for each small team to light should they find Indira, and half the crew poured off the boat, each group bragging they'd be the ones to save their captain and earn her favor. Cullen held back for a bit, but Cass and Varric both noticed him lingering on deck. Cass approached him with a disbelieving look on her face.

"Are you really going to stay here? I figured you'd be the first one off the ship to look for her."

Cullen cleared his throat and stood up straighter before the dwarf and his former first mate. "I was thinking that I would let Blackwall join me and Jim."

Varric burst out laughing and then stopped when he realized no one else was. "But, why? The man lied to us all, made us believe he was a Grey Warden we had picked up stranded, floating in the Waking sea on a piece of detritus. He ended up being some Orlesian git, just another Val Royeaux bounty hunter."

"Yes, and he's been nothing but penitent about it, and he's sworn his loyalty to Indira and the Inquisition over and over again. He just needs a chance to redeem himself. He's a good man, I've shared the cell next to his now for weeks."

Varric shrugged his shoulders and adjusted the strap that kept his crossbow at his back. "Take care he does not stab you in the back at some point during your search."

Cullen crossed his arms and looked at him squarely. "Has  _she_ stabbed you in the back yet?"  
"No, not yet," Cass answered for him, making the dwarf grin at her with open affection. Before the two left, Cass turned and saluted her former captain. "I'm glad you came back, Cullen."

He saluted her back, full of purpose and confidence, before heading down to Blackwall's cell. He found him waiting for him, and not engaged in his usual hobbies - brooding and whittling. 

"What's going on up there, I can tell something is afoot."

"Indira is missing. When you...were in her good graces, did she ever say anything to you about red lyrium?"  
"Nay, not to me, but this was certainly a topic between her and every captain of every ship we've crossed for months. Some of those men ended up in your cell, others were not so lucky."

Blackwall's face changed as he grew sadder. "But Indira saved my life, I could have been drifting at sea until I starved to death. I did a strange and foolish thing at the time, and lied about my identity so they wouldn't drop me back into the ocean."

Cullen cleared his throat and paused. He knew he was introducing one of Indira's former flames back into her life, thereby complicating his own path to her heart, but he also wanted to help the man who so clearly needed a second chance. He had been given a second chance too. With a bit of irony he noted to himself that he was on his third chance now.

"Blackwall... Thom... Half of us are in town, looking for anything resembling a red lyrium den. Perhaps Indira went inquiring after such a place and got herself into some trouble. Do you want to help me look for her?"

Blackwall stared at him, confusion and hope mingled on his face. "But, why... I thought you were quite smitten with her, why not find her yourself and take all the credit? Why risk her ire by giving me even a moment of freedom?"

"Blackwall, I haven't the time for discussions of redemption and regret. We both know the door to your cell has been unlocked for quite some time. So just step through it and help me look for her. Please, before she finds herself in some sort of danger she cannot extricate herself from."

Cullen watched as Blackwall clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door to his cell. They nodded at each other and then Cullen gestured to him to follow him. Up on deck, a handful of Indira's crew watched with distaste as Cullen handed him the only spare weapon he could find, a dull iron dagger. One of Bull's Chargers, Rocky, shook his head. 

"She won't like that, what you're doing. Don't take him with you. He can stay above board with us but you shouldn't let him off the ship. It directly contradicts one of her orders."

Cullen straightened himself out and faced the rest of the gang who was staying behind to guard the Inquisition and ready her for her captain's return. "It is an order she never gave _me_ so..."

They all waited for him to continue, even Blackwall, who squinted at him with curiosity. "I shall take whatever punishment she sees fit."

There was a small pause before everyone burst into uproarious laughter. "All right, fair enough, pretty boy, we know how much you like that punishment. Just bring her back safe. We're all sick of this fucking town. It might be fun at night but it smells like vomit in the morning."

* * * * *

Blackwall, Cullen and Jim combed their corner of Estwatch, street by street, until Blackwall suggested they just go into a tavern and ask someone where they could get some red lyrium.

"That's it, we're just going to ask?"

Blackwall chose the saddest, darkest tavern they could find, with a door broken off its own hinges and leaning up against the door frame. "Wandering around hasn't gotten us any closer to the Inquisitor."

Jim made a small noise of disgust as they entered the tavern, which smelled of ale, sweat, and mildew. The woman behind the bar had a glass eye and a sour look on her face as she stared at them as they approached the bar. Blackwall had to push both Cullen and Jim closer to the bar, with Jim still protesting, "But why would they just  _tell us_ where we can get some red lyrium?"

Blackwell grunted while positioning Cullen in front of both of them. "They probably wouldn't tell you or me, but they'll tell him." Blackwall spoke to Cullen under his breath. "Just ask nicely, like a gentleman. Take your hat off. Treat her like a lovely dowager who's just had you over for tea."

"I don't have a hat!" Cullen hissed back at him as Blackwall forced him to take a step closer to the crone.

"Think of Indira, fool. She's waiting for you."

Cullen cleared his throat as he approached the tavern owner. "Excuse me, madame - " This alone made the woman's eyebrows raise. "My colleagues and I were travelling through town, you will pardon our appearance, it has been an exhausting journey. After Ostwick, the sea was not - " Blackwall nudged him, a cue to keep his story on track. Cullen started again, "Regardless, my friend here, James. Ser James. Ser James Connington..."

To his surprise, Jim gave the woman a small bow, playing along. "He is rather pressing need of his usual medicine but Ser James has forgotten where he last was able to procure this, very important item."

She stared at all three of them as though they were talking animals who had walked into her place of business. Blackwell tried to help. "The ah, Orlesians have a name for it,  _le baiser rouge_?"

The woman snorted. "Nobody 'round here speaks a lick of Orlesian, luv. Try common. It's what we're speakin' already."

At this, Jim lost his patience. "Red lyrium! Where can we get it!"

She snorted again. "That information will cost ya. Ten silver stags."

Cullen saw a side of his assistant he had not seen before as Jim raised his voice. "Ah, you can fuck right off, you old crone! Ten silver stags just to find out where the bleedin' lyrium den is!? At that rate, we won't have a lick of coin to indulge once we get there. I'll give you ten coppers, no more, no less."

"That's pocket change, you shitty little cur!  _Five_ silver stags."

They haggled back and forth until Blackwall had had enough. He took two heavy steps toward a post near the bar, held on to it with two hands and gave it a shake to test it. It made the entire ramshackle building around them creak. He made eye contact with the tavern woman and gave the post a second yank.

"If you don't tell us where it is, I'll pull down this entire tavern on us. And we'll all die and you'll get nothing."

They stared at each other. Blackwall gave the load-bearing post another good hard tug, hard enough to make the ceiling shake down a little dust on the two passed out customers sitting in a corner. He pulled again and Cullen swore he was starting to see gaps in the cheap boards that made up the walls of the tumble-down building.

"All right, all right, no need to destroy my place of business! Walk up two streets and head north, away from the port. At the end of that street, it will come to a dead end at a two story flat, with all the windows drawn. Knock four times, like this." She demonstrated the knock on the bar in front of her and then pointed at Blackwall. "Are you happy now, you, you - you _gobermouch_!"

Cullen and Blackwall turned to rush out of the tavern together. Jim stayed behind for one moment, and left one silver stag on the bar in front of the seething woman. He affected Cullen's gentleman's tone for a moment as the woman grabbed the coin with a greedy hand. 

"I thank you, madame."

He then turned to chase his master down, along with the Inquisition's pariah. 

* * * * *

They found the exact two story building the bar owner had spoke of, at the end of a street with heavy curtains blocking out any view of its interior. Blackwall did the knock as the woman had instructed and they waited in suspense. Cullen looked at Blackwall, who was trying to smooth down his beard with one of his meaty palms. 

"What's a gobermouch?"  
"Guess we'll never know."

Jim piped in. "What do we say when they answer?"

On cue, the door in front of them opened an inch and they could only see an eye peering out at them.

"Yeah?"  
  
Cullen and Jim froze but Blackwall kept his wits about him. "Let us in, luv. It's a little nippy out here and we could use a taste."

He sounded natural enough for the woman to open the door wider and allow them in. When they stepped over the threshold, the temperature inside rose dramatically and Cullen noticed the young lady with the steely eyes was clad in a short, simple linen dress and was bare-footed, befitting the heat that was emanating from somewhere unseen. The decorations had a shabby decadence to them, and a second girl, playing a strange instrument with a bow sat in a corner, noodling over the same melody over and over again. There was a crackle in the air, a certain smell. Cullen felt a twitch of recognition and he licked his lips out of instinct. When he was a Templar, he used to make a draught of his lyrium, mixing it into some wine with the tip of his finger.

"I'll find you three a room in the back. First time?"

The trio all responded with different answers but she waved them off with an elegant hand. "First time."

Cullen and Blackwall were careful to peer into each room they passed, which only had gauzy pieces of silk hanging in their doorways to obscure who might be within. Each room had an addict or two within, sprawled out on big silk pillows, and it didn't take Cullen long to realize  _they_ were the reason the place was so hot, and the strange red glow that was radiating through the building was coming from the two foot tall brass implements they used to smoke their lyrium. Cullen could see the crystals sitting in the bowls atop each device, and how they glowed brighter whenever one of them took a pull on the mouthpiece attached to the device via a long cord. 

The hostess lead them around a corner and Cullen realized the building was a lot bigger than it looked from the outside, and there were perhaps fifty people indulging this dangerous vice, but he was beginning to panic when he didn't see Indira in any of the rooms. The woman made a noise of annoyance as she paused in the hallway.

"Didn't realize we were so busy tonight. The only thing that's available are one of the nicer rooms upstairs, but it will cost ya. Have ye the coin?"

Jim rattled the remaining coins in his pocket and the woman lead them up a narrow staircase to the second floor. On the landing above, Cullen noticed the rooms were larger and instead of piles of pillows, you could lie on a brocade chaise lounge, with a table nearby bearing a few nice bottles of liquor and bowls of fruit and bread. He also noticed that out of the four luxury rooms available upstairs, only one was occupied. Without asking for permission, he stepped forward and pushed aside the piece of silk in the doorway.

Lying inside was Indira, bombed out of her mind - but one of her wrists had an iron cuff around it, attached to a chain that was bolted to the wall. She rolled over as best as she could and looked at him with feverish eyes.

"Rutherford? What are you doing here?"

Before he could answer he felt two strong hands grab him by the shoulders. "All right, knew you were fucking troublemakers when I saw ya downstairs, let's go gentlemen, you can't stay here - "

Cullen twisted around and saw Blackwall's shocked face. "She, she - she shapeshifted!" The hostess was no longer a long-legged woman but a burly bouncer type, who was even bigger than Blackwall. 

Everything began to happen so fast, and the three weren't just dealing with one assailant but two more who rushed in from downstairs. While they grappled with them, Cullen tried to take in any pertinent details, their accents, what kind of weapons they bore and how they fought, but it was honestly just a messy melee of punching and grunting and occasional dagger swiping. Cullen managed to push his attacker down the stairs and he tumbled down to the next landing and passed out when he hit his head on the railing. He calmly approached the man who had Jim in a headlock and placed the barrel of his pistol to the man's temple. 

"Stop now, this ends here."

The man let go of Jim and pressed his palms together and promptly disappeared.

"Bloody hell."

Cullen was about to point his pistol at Blackwall's attacker but he didn't need his help. He held the man at arm's length and then headbutted him so hard he broke the man's nose and it spurted blood onto Blackwall's shirt.

"Andraste's tits, Thom!"

He rubbed his forehead and looked down at the man, now lying in a pile at his feet.

"It'll hurt tomorrow, that's for sure."

They all waited to see if this man could magic himself away but he just lied there, bleeding all over the fine rug underneath him and then Cullen turned to look at the man he had pushed down the stairs, but he was gone - from magic or just using his own two feet, he did not know. 

They turned their attention to their captain now, who was still chained into place - and about to put the mouthpiece of the red lyrium hookah back between her lips. Cullen knelt down next to her and slapped it out of her hand.

"Indira, no! What are you thinking?"  
"You should try it, Cullen. You'd love it. You feel nothing. No pain. No bad memories. Just nice lovely..."

She trailed off as she tried to take another hit again but Cullen knocked the thing over so the crystals tumbled everywhere. Blackwall tried to pull on the chain to see if it would even budge a bit from where it was attached to the wall, but he made no progress. Cullen brushed the hair off of Indira's face and looked at her dilated pupils. Her skin was burning and she could barely hold her head up. He looked at Blackwall and Jim over his shoulder. "Find something to break the chain with."

Blackwall paused. He clearly wanted to stay and help her too. "Why don't you shoot the chain with your pistol?"  
"Because I haven't any bullets. The thing was just for show."

Blackwall still paused, looking at Indira, still so ravishing, even in this state, writhing on the chaise lounge. Cullen clenched his jaw and gave him deadly serious look. "Go. Now. Before they come back with more mages and muscle."

Jim and Blackwall went off to explore the rest of the red lyrium den while Cullen had a moment with her alone. He gathered her into his arms as best he could, with one of her wrists shackled.

"Miss Trevelyan, what were you doing here?"

Indira had to swallow a few times to moisten her mouth so she could speak. "I was looking for it. I've been tracking it. Trying to. Trying. This stuff... It killed my sister. My sweet little sister. She hadn't even seen her twentieth year."

He cradled her cheek with one of his palms and wiped away the tear that had rolled down her cheek. "But - "

"I asked too many questions. They said - if I was really interested, I should give it a try. So I did, didn't think it'd be so bad. And then when they figured out who I was, they chained me up and said perhaps they'd take me to their leader. As a gift."

She shivered in his arms, even though she was also sweating lightly. "It doesn't matter. Will you fix the hookah, Cullen, you knocked it over and I need more."

He shook his head at her and brushed the beads of sweat off her forehead. "No, no more. 'Tis true what we've heard then, that you're addicted right away."

She shook her head back at him. "No, no, I'm not, I just need a little more before we go back to the ship. Just a little more to tide me over."

Cullen heard suspicious crashing and yelling from downstairs. Jim and Blackwall were stirring up more trouble. He squeezed Indira tighter, not sure how this would all play out. "We'll get you back to the ship, and Dorian will look at you, he's got to be able to help you."

Indira giggled and even though this was a rather dire situation, Cullen couldn't help but smile at the sound of her laughter. "What's so funny?"

"Dorian fancies you. It drives Iron Bull crazy. He wants to invite you to their quarters some night. You know what they call that in Orlais? A menage a trois. Would you like that, Cullen?"

Her eyes rolled back in her head and she seemed in danger of passing out, even as her thought continued. "I'd watch. Would you like if it I watched, Cullen..."

He brushed a thumb over her lips, remembering how they felt against his. "Harlot. Why do you say such terrible things." She didn't answer, her head lolled against his shoulder. He shook her a little, worried about how much she might have consumed already. "Indira, stay awake please..."

There was another clatter from downstairs and Blackwall and Jim finally arrived, carrying an ornate ax that looked too ornate to be used for any real purpose. "We pulled it off a plaque on the wall, it's just for show but hopefully it will work."

Blackwall shot Jim an annoyed look. "Clumsy bastard also knocked over a candelabra, so ah, we've got to hurry."  
Cullen looked at Jim with alarm. "Um, it started a bit of a fire? And turns out a lot of the stuff in here is flammable?"

Cullen then heard the sound of people rushing around downstairs, and then noticed the man that Blackwall had knocked out was beginning to groan as he came to. "Come on then, let's move it along!"

They hacked away at the iron chain, unable to break it with the decorative ax, but they were making progress trying to pull the entire bolt off the wall. Indira kept wincing every time they struck the wood or the chain and whined and twisted in Cullen's arms like a child, trying to reach the hookah that had fallen over nearby.

"Indira, stop moving, we might hurt you -"

Cullen dropped her onto the chaise lounge when the Blackwall's assailant pulled himself to his feet behind him. "Blackwall, duck!" He thought fast and picked up the nearby hookah and swung it hard at the man's head. The red lyrium merchant fell down again, and this time, it didn't look like he was going to get up again.

"Cullen, Ser, I think you killed him!"  
"Fuck, I didn't mean to, I was thinking we could take him back to the boat and interrogate him -"

Blackwall pulled with all his might and the bolt finally gave so even though the chain was still attached to Indira's wrist, they could finally get her out of the red lyrium den. There was an awkward moment when Blackwall scooped her up in his arms but Cullen had to put it aside because the building was beginning to truly burn up around them. They took the stairs, Jim grabbing things at random, a jug of wine, a candlestick or two, knick knacks and apples and anything he could tuck into his vest or his pockets. Cullen tried to rouse some of the addicts to get them to leave but Blackwall hollered at him to keep moving, there was no time. The four made it out of the building and turned just in time to watch the second story burst into flames. 

"Maker's balls, Cullen. That did not exactly go how I thought it would."

Cullen stared at the fire. It was the most destruction he had ever been a party to and he had done it for an outlaw, a murderer, a thief, a rogue - a woman he barely knew. But it felt good. They watched as the glass windows shattered and red lyrium addicts poured out of the front door, coughing in relief, and Blackwall mumbled something about how they should get going before the fire brigade and whatever passed for Estwatch authorities showed up. 

* * * * *

They made it back to the ship without more drama, Indira placed in Dorian's care, and Jim and a redeemed Blackwall drinking with the rest of the crew. Cullen watched as Dorian tried to tend to her in her cabin, with Indira still in a highly agitated state. Jim and Sera had to hold her down at times so Dorian could get her to swallow a few draughts and cast some healing magic over her.

"I've not seen a drug like this before in my lifetime. I'm not sure how to treat her and my small collection of tomes here on the ship will be of no use to me. We need to get her to Antiva, I have a few mage contacts there with their own personal libraries and maybe they could provide more help. I _wish_ we could sail all the way to Tevinter but that's just not possible."

Dorian's draughts worked and Indira calmed down and slipped into a stupor. Sera watched with some alarm as Indira relaxed on her bed while mumbling nonsense to herself. "How long is that stuff going to work?"

"She'll need to take it every four hours or so. My hope is this first bout of withdrawal is the worst, and it will slowly peter out the longer she goes without it."

Cullen felt his spine stiffen. Indira was going through what he went through with his own lyrium withdrawal, which had gone on for months and months, but in the span of a day and a night. "What if she never gets over it, Dorian?"

He rubbed a hand over his face, exhausted. "We can't think that way. We must pray the wind carries us to Antiva City with no further delay. How soon do you think we can be there, Cullen?"

"As you said, with a good wind, three, four days. If we have to stop and raid ships and pull into port and drink ourselves cross-eyed, then a week."

Dorian swore to himself and then lowered his voice. "Did either of you happen to - take a little of it?"

Everyone looked down at Indira, who had rolled onto her side and was listening to them intently, even with foggy, out of focus eyes. Jim made sure to look at Dorian while shaking his head no. "No, who would have had time to grab something like that with the building burning down around us? Only a fool." At the end of his spiel he gave Dorian the tiniest nod of his head, while patting one of his pockets. 

Cullen, Dorian and Sera all had to hide their smiles and pretend to be chagrined by Jim's answer. "Oh well, Antiva City it is then. Indira, darling, you're going to have to live until then, can you promise us that?"

Indira flopped back onto the bed and gave Dorian rude gesture. "Ah, fuck you and the mustached horse you rode in on."  
"Profane as ever, it's possible you're getting better already, you silly cunt."

Dorian put a hand on Jim's shoulder and began guiding him out of the room. "All right, fool, come with me. Who will stay here and look after her?"

Cullen and Sera got the same stubborn look on their face at the same time and Cullen was reminded of the thousands of arguments he used to have with his little sister Rosalie, back on the family farm in Honnleath. "No, you push off, Captain Tight Arse, she's my best friend!"

"Yes, but I saved her!"  
"You _helped_ save her!"  
"Yes, but - "

Dorian waved them off with an annoyed sound. "Work it out you two, and whoever wins, you must be prepared to stay by her side until we make port again and make sure she takes every draught I prepare. And no food, and no drink."

"Dorian, that seems extreme - "  
"We must starve and sweat it out of her. I will monitor her progress. If she gets better by morning, we'll see about a little broth and a little bread. Isn't that right, my little drug addict?"

Indira was asleep, the only sign of her previous worries taking the form of a slight crease in her brow. Cullen turned back to Sera who had one fist held out toward him already.

"We'll roshambo for her."

Cullen put his fist out to meet hers, and in a heartbeat, three rounds later, he had lost his chance to take care of Indira. He had to slink out of Indira's cabin to the sound of Sera's gloating laughter. He yelled at her from the hallway after she shut the door in his face, "If you need me, come find me, Sera!"

He heard her muffled reply. "Yeah yeah, I think I can handle her on my own, now push off, Cully Wully!"

* * * * * 

Six hours later it was Cullen's turn to gloat, when Sera shook him awake in his rope hammock. He was still sleeping in the brig, but with his cell door wide open. He, JIm and Blackwall had turned it into their own corner of the ship, and it was hardly their prison anymore. Sera tiptoed past the other two snoring men and pulled him out of his slumber with a few painful pokes in the rib.

"Oy, wake up, I can't take much more of her tonight. She's relentless, she wants to get off the ship and swim back to Estwatch, or take control of the helm and steer us back. I keep telling her you blew up the red lyrium den - 

"We did not 'blow it up', it, ah - "  
"It doesn't matter! I want to go to sleep, you take care of her until sunrise."

Cullen rubbed his eyes and extricated himself out of the uncomfortable hammock. "How'd you keep her from escaping?"

"I sat in a chair propped against the door. Every time I started to dose off she'd try to move me away and wake me back up again. Oy, I can't wait for her to be back to normal again, it's like dealing with an horrible child."

He followed the mouthy elf across the ship and they paused in the doorway before he went into Indira's cabin. "She needs a dose of her medicine right now, and then one more before morning. Good luck, Rutherford, you're going to need it!"

She shoved him in with a giggle and then slammed the door shut. Indira was propped up on one elbow in bed, one sleeve of her blouse slipping off her shoulder and the sheets kicked away from her legs. She gave him such a devious, sly look that Cullen panicked for a moment. "Sera, what should I do if - "

He heard the door lock behind him. "Sorry, Curly! I think this is the best way. We'll see what's left of you in the morning!"

Cullen turned back to look at Indira and tried to stand up straighter with some authority. He slipped off his jacket and put it on the back of one of the two chairs at her small dining table. Sera had left the next dose of her medicine there, so he picked it up and gave the bottle a little shake to make sure it was mixed up.

"Are you going to be good, and take your medicine?"  
"No."

He approached her bedside, trying to be stern and imposing and not utterly smitten with her, even in this state.

"And why not?" 

Indira flopped back on her pillows, a wistful, sad, needy smile on her face. "Because it makes the song go away."  
"The song?"

She stretched her arms and legs and then relaxed with a sigh. 

"The red lyrium - it made me sing, all over my body. The same little melody, looping around my heart, it makes me feel good. But it's going away." She looked at him with heated eyes. "I don't want it to go away."

"Yes, but - Indira, try to remember why you took it in the first place..."

Her face crumpled and he felt it, all her sadness, all her pain. He had been lucky to have never lost a sibling, but he had lost many a Templar comrade, good, loyal friends whose code dictated that they could and would die for each other. Indira began crying in earnest. Cullen sat down on the edge of her bed and placed the bottle of medicine in her hands, and cupped his around hers. 

"Drink it please. And then we can talk about what we can do about all of this."

Indira looked up at him and for a moment he was fixed to the spot by her rich brown eyes, and the fine ring of black around their irises. "You would help me, Cullen? But why?"

"Because it isn't right. Because maybe my own work facilitated your sister's end. Because no one deserves to die because another man wishes to profit."

She exhaled at his words, and tilted her head up to try to kiss him but Cullen pulled back. "Take your medicine please."

He uncapped the bottle for her and raised her hands up for her. She drank down the draught, her eyes tuned to his until it was empty. She then flung it away and pushed herself into his arms to kiss him deeply, one hand clutching his shirt, the other twining into his hair. When he broke the kiss he was on the verge of breathlessness.

"Your medicine tastes like bark and dirt and - the bottom of my boot."

She smiled at him and then the draught began to work its magic. She slipped out of his embrace and onto the bed behind her to sleep. He watched her for a while, studying her, and then reached a hand out to twist a bit of her midnight black hair around one of his fingers. What force took him off the path of his life and onto hers? Did the Maker want him to serve her, protect her, help her seek her revenge? Or was this still all folly, would he die in vain at the end of another pirate's sword?

She opened her eyes and looked at him, and for a moment, he prayed she was lucid, and not just under the influence of Dorian's magic or the dwindling red lyrium in her system.

"I know you killed for me, Cullen. When we get to Antiva - I will bed you."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me at thetemplarandtherogue.tumblr.com - I reblog Dragon Age, Assassin's Creed, Skyrim, The Witcher, mythology from around the world, art, fashion, and other images to help spur my own writing on - and maybe it will help yours too.


	4. Antiva is for Lovers

The Inquisition sailed with all haste toward Antiva, her captain locked up in her own cabin and still pleading for a bit of red lyrium. Her condition put everyone in a gloomy mood, everyone except Dorian, who babysat the piece of red lyrium with great importance, keeping it sealed in a protective orb on the opposite end of the ship from Indira. Cullen was sent into Indira's room over and over again to give her sedatives that staved off her withdrawal symptoms for a few hours at a time, and while she slept he examined the ships ledgers she had collected from her raiding adventures and consulted her maps, looking for clues. The red lyrium was definitely flowing out of certain ports, and it had to be mined on land, but who was funding all of this? Who was profiting from it? And did anyone have a sinister reason for wanting to keep most of the populace in a perpetual state of addiction? He was wracked with guilt because he had helped sicken people - unknowingly, yes - but his steadfast loyalty to his company kept him from being even a little curious about what he had been smuggling. He could have opened any one of those crates and found out exactly what he was a part of. Cullen brooded over this and began concocting a plan of sorts. Perhaps he could pose as a ship's captain again, pretend to be legitimate, and spread the word in any of these port towns that he would take on any goods and see them safely to their destination, he could - 

The Inquisition's bells began to clang, signaling that they had finally reached Antiva City. Cullen rushed to the deck, where some of the crew was watching the grand old city come into view. It was famous for its beautiful canals, colorful buildings, and delicious cuisine, and the pirates seemed legitimately awed by it.

"We don't get to come here often, it's a bit dangerous for us types to just go sailing into town," Iron Bull told him while he cleaned out his nails with the point of a dagger as the ship drew closer to the harbor.

"Then how will we - "

Dorian arrived, dressed in velvets and silks. He looked like an Antivan lord, from the top of his hat to the bottom of his diamond-topped walking stick and it made the rest of the crew catcall and whistle at him. Iron Bull's jaw dropped.

"Babe, you look - "

"No, don't touch, it makes the spell fade faster. Yes, it's just magic. But even without it, I still look good, right?"

Cullen waited for the two to kiss and the crew to hoot and holler more before he issued a question. "Can you enchant my clothes too? I'm coming with you."

Dorian scoffed. "Coming with me? I'm going straight from the ship to some friends in the mage underground and I don't need someone who looks like a Fereldan ex-Templar from his curls to his toes. I've already sent word to my friends that I'm coming and they are sending a carriage."

"Dorian, you'll need help."

"And if I needed help, I could ask Bull to come with me."

"Except a Qun in the narrow streets of Antiva would make quite the scene. Dorian, please." 

"No. Varric, second in command, and I have discussed this. The crew will stay in the harbor and repair the ship and await our return. We can't have pirates pouring into Antiva City willy nilly stealing and rutting and generally making a scene."

At this, everyone erupted into objections and Varric came above board to see what the commotion was. He had to stand up on a few crates to get everyone's attention.

"Quiet down! Shut yer yobs, what's everyone going on about?"

Everyone answered at once and the consensus was that they wanted to disembark and walk around the city and they wouldn't touch or steal a single thing, or speak to any beautiful locals, or eat in any of the famous trattorias or - 

"Like I'd believe a word any of you say. I bet most of you spent your coin back in Estwatch on pointless indulgences and now here we are, sailing toward one of the loveliest cities in all of Thedas and not a farthing amongst you for a slice of pizza or a - "

At the mention of food, the uproar began to take on a mutinous tone and Cassandra had to fire one of her pistols into the air to get everyone to stop. She snarled at the pack of pirates, pushing Varric behind her for a moment.

"Typical shite pirates, thinking only of themselves while their captain is suffering. Do whatever you please, but if any of you get into any trouble in Antiva City, you're on your own."

They docked and the pirates poured off the boat, half-pretending to be regular, law-abiding citizens but also jostling each other in a hurry to get off the boat. The ship emptied and Blackwall came on deck, Indira tucked into his arms in a blanket. Dorian gestured to him to follow him but Cullen blocked their path.

"Why does he get to go but I don't?"

"Because in his nice silk coat - " Dorian turned and snapped his fingers and Blackwall was immediately outfitted in finery. " - he looks like my very capable footman, Giorgio. Come along, boy, we're already late."

Blackwall gave Cullen a sympathetic look. "Sorry, Cul. And also - don't call me boy, I'm not your boy."

Dorian gave him another snap of his fingers and Blackwall's beard turned into a neat little goatee, and a foppish cap appeared on his head with a flourish. Cullen had hoped Blackwall would stop and grumble about his new look so he could at least look at Indira, see if her eyes were open and if she'd see him back, but they kept heading toward the end of the docks. Cullen was wondering what he should do now as he leaned against the railing of the ship when Jim sidled up to him.

"Ser, can I - "  
"Just go, Jim. I'm going to stay here. I want to be here in case someone sends word for me."

Jim snorted. " _Someone_. All right. I'm off. I want to ride one of them funny boats at least once, the ones that go down the canals."

He tore off, following the pack of pirates that were pouring into the streets of Antiva City. Cullen paused for a moment, remembering that this was supposed to be his home, he and Meredith were supposed to become familiar with its little narrow streets, he was set to learn the language and customs. He wondered what his house in town looked like, he had only received a general description of it from his father in law. Perhaps other people were living happily there now. There was a part of him that wanted to see the windows aglow and for a brief moment see the other life he could have enjoyed and then another part of him that didn't. There was no going back to any of that, no point in being nostalgic for something that could never happen.

Cullen turned away from the railing and went below deck. Varric had let him a book out of his collection that he  _hadn't_ written, and he planned on settling into his hammock with the tome and enjoying the silence on the ship while it still lasted.

* * * * * 

Night had fallen and no one had returned to the Inquisition. Cullen wondered if they'd ever return without any guidance, nobody had given them a set time to return, it had just been chaos before Indira had left. He was poking around the galley looking for a boiled potato or a forgotten biscuit when he heard heavy steps on the boards above him. He put aside his hunger and rushed up the ladder to the deck. 

It was Blackwall, back to normal, as bearded as ever and in his simple linen shirt, boots and pants. Dorian's spell had faded, and he also looked exhausted.

"Bloody mages had me running around doing this, fetching that. Is it me, or are Vint blokes just the worst? High and mighty bastards..."

"Is Indira all right?"  
"She's fine. They leeched the stuff out of her using something or other, and then moved on to being fascinated by the piece of red lyrium. They claim they were not just having fun for fun's sake, but you can't tell with those fellows and their tones and their accents. Do you know how many times they asked me if I knew what sarcasm was? Yes, I do know, I've had schooling. Don't let the beard fool you."

Blackwall slumped onto an old crate nearby and that was when Cullen saw what was in his hand - a letter, with elegant writing on the envelope. Indira's handwriting. He now recognized it from skimming all her findings and theories in her journal on the red lyrium trade.

"What's that you're holding?"  
"Bring me a drink and you can have it. For once, I'd like to see someone jump at my orders."

Cullen didn't hesitate. He tore through the ship and back into the galley and located a mug sitting discarded on a table. He dipped it into a barrel of rum and headed straight back to Blackwall. The man was still not in the best of moods, he slipped the envelope into his pocket when he took the mug from Cullen and made it clear he wouldn't get his delivery until he had finished his drink.

"What'd you do all day?"  
"Blackwall, please, can I just have the letter."

Blackwall swirled the rum in his mug as though it was fine cognac and not swill he was drinking out of an unwashed tankard. "Don't you even want to know what the mages found out about the red lyrium?"

"Of course I do. You know, since that day in Estwatch, when - "  
  
"Yes, I know, that was all very exciting to you, I could see it in your face. You've spent so much of your life putting out fires that you never considered how good it might feel to start one. And save the woman you fancy from it."

Cullen squinted at a few Antiva City guards who were passing by as he responded, "You did the saving. Wasn't fair, really."

Blackwall chortled as he tossed his empty tankard away from him. "Oh, still sore about that, eh? Well, I'm sure you needn't be, here's your bloody letter. I'm going to have myself a smoke, and a nap." He stood up and began heading to their makeshift quarters in the brig but paused at the ladder.

"One of Dorian's friends wasn't a Vint, he was Orlesian. He thinks it's flowing out of the port in Val Royeaux. The gentleman had stories..."  
"Stories?"  
  
"Red lyrium can kill a mage. He knew someone who knew someone who knew someone... Apparently, direct exposure to an open vein of it can reduce a mage to a pillar of ashes." 

Cullen's eyes widened. "Dorian - "  
"Aye, it's good he was so cautious in handling it. Others will not be so lucky."

Blackwall disappeared down the ladder and Cullen remembered what was in his hand - he turned the envelope over in his hand and saw his name in her handwriting on the outside. He carefully opened the letter with the tip of his dagger, slicing it open perfectly so the paper did not tear. 

On beautiful vellum, she had written down two things - a time, and an address. 

Seven bells.

And an address he recognized right away. 

* * * * *

His home was a dusty rose-colored two story villa, at the end of a cobblestone street that curled its way up a hillside that overlooked the rest of the city. It was a clear, warm night, and he could see all the way back to the harbor. 

Cullen's heart was pounding. Of course she would know the details of his life, she had confiscated all his correspondence and his captain's log. She knew where he had been sailing and for what purpose. Why summon him here though?

He looked down at his clothes. He had tried to straighten himself out, he had given himself a shave and brushed his hair and pulled it back into a low ponytail with a piece of black ribbon he had nicked out of Indira's cabin. He still had his officer's coat, a bit tattered in places but he had dusted it off as best as he could. He had no idea what Indira had in store. Maybe she just wanted to rob the place, clean it out, but Cullen was certain the home only contained furniture. Maybe she had asked him there to move furniture. Cullen winced at his own ideas and decided to stop standing in the street staring at a house and go knock on the door. When he knocked, the door pushed open slightly. He opened it wider and stepped inside. There was a sitting room to his right with a fireplace, and to his left, a room that would have been his office and library. A set of stairs in an elegant curve lead to the second story of the home. He took it all in at first, approving of the layout and its size, not too big, not too small, as if he was still moving in there. It took him a few beats to realize the dining table in the main part of the home was set for two people, with candles burning in every corner of the room. Crystal wine glasses were waiting at the corner of the plates and just the sight of them made him thirsty. 

"Oh, you've arrived, I didn't hear you come in, darling."

Indira stood at the top of the stairs in a dark blue silk gown, her hair up, a simple string of pearls around her neck and a light wrap around her shoulders. She looked like a respectable, well to do young lady, the wife of a man with his own ship. As lovely as she looked, it was quite out of character for her. It was practically a costume, almost a joke, but he did not care. As she drew closer, he could only concentrate on her skin, smooth and brown. She was glowing and back to health and when he kissed the back of her hand, he was delighted that it was not spellcraft that was fooling him, rendering him speechless in her presence.

"You must be starving. The table is already set, let me serve you."

She lead him to the dinner table and then disappeared for a moment. When she returned, she had wheeled in dinner on a cart. "I let the servants go for the evening, so we could be alone." Cullen smiled at her as she took the serving dish cover off of the food, revealing a roasted ham with all the fixings. She was really going to play house with him, in what was supposed to be _his house_. Was it cruel, to have fed his highborn wife to the sharks, just so she could take her place here? Maybe the mages who had cured her had scrambled her memories and she thought she was Meredith?

"Indira?"  
"Yes, dear?" She looked at him as she spooned some mashed potatoes onto his plate for him.  
"Oh, I was just - making sure you were you."

She slid a piece of ham onto his plate and gave him a pointed look. " _Stop thinking so hard, you'll ruin it -_ wine?"

"Yes, of course. The claret, if we've got it." Cullen relaxed, leaning back in his chair as she took care of him. Master of the house. It made him wish he had a cigar. It made him look right down the top of her gown, at the two promising mounds of her breasts as Indira loaded his plate and then poured them both some wine, into heavy crystal glasses. _Where had she gotten all of this? Stolen, probably_. She held her glass out to his for a toast.

"No, I didn't steal it. I paid for all of it. Maybe not the full price, but - I paid enough." Indira paused, thoughtful for only the briefest moment. "Thanks for. Saving my life."

The glasses emitted a high and clear tone when they clinked them together. It made Indira smile and return to her pirate sensibilities. "That's good shit. We'll take 'em back with us." He laughed and it felt grand. She was alive, the glorious, freewheeling thief. And so was he. 

They ate heartily and in silence, sometimes giving each other appreciative glances or grateful smiles. The food was not fussy but it was satisfying, and they dined to the sound of crickets outside. Indira was about to dip her spoon into the lemon creme when Cullen noticed something.

"Darling, let me fix that for you."

Cullen put down his napkin and stood up to cross to her side of the table. With gentle fingers, he slid the arm of her dress back up into place. She turned her head to look at him as his fingers danced up the rest of her shoulder and brushed the nape of her neck, but then she frowned when he returned to his seat and his wine glass. His touch had just brought the meal to a standstill and she was staring at him with open longing. It made Cullen want to play along with her little game.

"And what comes next, wife? I'm not all that interested in the dessert."

Indira put her spoon down with care and wiped her mouth with an edge of her napkin. "I thought we could take a little tour of the house. Wouldn't you like to see the rest of it?" 

He stood up before she could and offered her his arm. Indira picked up a candlestick and lit the way as they walked through the other rooms in the house. They breezed through the sitting room and library, admired the little breakfast nook off the kitchen, peeked into the servants quarters and headed back to the staircase that would take them to the second floor. Upstairs, Cullen felt his other life pulling at him hard when they stood in a room he was certain would have been the nursery. Its window looked down on the garden behind the house, where he could also see a lovely fountain. His child would have stood on tip toes to reach his fingers into the water. His reverie was so convincing, he thought he even heard someone calling to his boy to get down from there, be careful - 

"I shouldn't have brought you here. I'm sorry, Cullen."

He turned away from the window. Indira's hand that was holding the candlestick was shaking just a little and when she spoke again, her voice was a hoarse whisper. "Maybe you should stay here tomorrow when we push off. I know you were supposed to settle down in Antiva City, Cullen. You can still do so. Find yourself another Meredith, get another ship - and then come and find me again, and seek your revenge, push your sword into my heart, because it would only be right, it would be - "

He interrupted by wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her toward him, silencing her with a hard kiss that left them both panting. "Can't you see, it's much too late for that." Indira dropped the candlestick and pulled him back down to her lips and soon he was scooping her up in his arms and walking with authority toward the room that had to be the master bedroom. To his relief, there was a huge four poster bed he could drop her on as he tore off his jacket and started undoing his cravat. Indira had shimmied out of her dress but was lying on the bed trying to get the stays of her corset undone.

"Bloody thing! No wonder I never wear one!"

It made them laugh together and Cullen straddled her on the bed, trying to help her with the tangled ribbons, stopping to lean down to kiss soft globes of her heaving breasts. She whined underneath him and he sat up.

"I don't think I can get it off."

Cullen felt for the dagger he had kept strapped to his belt since Estwatch and unsheathed it. Indira put two hands on his thighs and Cullen realized she looked a little afraid.

"Do you think I would hurt you?"  
"I just - quickly realized I had left myself unarmed in the company of a man who has reason to kill me."

He tossed the heavy dagger with one hand, catching it by its handle, a trick Sera had been teaching him, as he looked at her pinned beneath him. 

"But I promised you I would never do anything to hurt you, that first night we met, do you remember?"

She caressed his thighs now as she blushed. "I do."

Cullen slipped the tip of his dagger under the lowest crisscross of ribbon in her corset and slid it up, so carefully, as he had opened the envelope that had contained her invitation for the night. She sighed as the garment released her and then with two hands she pulled it open, exposing her flesh to him. Her hair had slipped out of its ladylike style and was spread out on the cotton sheets beneath them, her lips were pink and swollen from their kissing and her eyes were dark with lust. She reached a hand out and gripped his cock, right through his trousers.

"I wanted you the moment I saw you, and I knew I would have you once I got you down on your knees."  
"I knew I would give myself to you."

Cullen gave her a rakish grin and then stuck the dagger into the post at the foot of the bed, and after that they got busy removing the rest of their clothing. It was rapture, being able to touch her the ways he had dreamed of touching her. He swept his hands up her legs and parted her knees, finding her inner thighs so soft he had to kiss them all over, making her giggle and thread her fingers through his hair. Soon his mouth was on her cunt, transforming her mirth into gasps and moans. He watched her writhing as he lapped at the heat of her, grabbing the sheets, touching her own breasts. She was a fearsome leader of a pack of thieves and here she was, coming undone with just the tip of his tongue. He licked her pearl with hungry abandon. It had been too long for him since he was able to please a woman thusly, the last time had been years ago when he had had a very discreet affair with another officer's wife. She had been older, and taught him the finer arts of pleasure, and by the end of their liaisons when they had parted ways she claimed he was  _very good indeed._ He was now very grateful for that instruction, especially when Indira propped herself up on her elbows to watch him, opening her thighs even wider. 

He paused for a moment to lick his lips, making her eyes open wide in surprise. "Do you like this, Indira?"  
"Very much so. Please don't stop. Where did you - how..."

Cullen didn't let her finish her thought, he traced a perfect circle around her pearl making her drop back on the bed and resume groaning again. He retraced that circle, again, and again, and again, reversed it a few times, and then started drawing an X over it, remembering the legends of pirates burying their treasure and leaving a mark behind. X marks the spot, _this spot_ , right here. He shook his entire head against her and in reaction, she gushed more of her arousal into his mouth and clamped her thighs around him, shrieking and swearing - and then growing limp with a long sigh. 

He crawled up the bed and positioned himself between her legs, feeling proud of her flushed cheeks and the dazed look on her face. Indira kissed him hard, hanging on to his shoulders, and Cullen took the opportunity to slide the length of him against her slit, making her moan into his mouth. Then she was laughing again.

"What's so funny?"  
"You're not a virgin, no, not at all."  
"I never said I was, did I?"

Indira relaxed against the pillows and Cullen felt her hand gripping him, guiding his cock into her. As she did so, her face grew serious once again, and he stared into her eyes until he was hilt deep inside of her. After that, there was no conversation, for a long time. He rutted into her with animalistic abandon, making her cry out and squeeze her eyes shut. He wove his fingers between hers and pressed her hands flat to the mattress as he gave her hard thrusts of his hips. He bit her on her shoulders, licked her neck, nibbled at her earlobe, drowning in the sounds she was making, her little whispered pleas and satisfying squeaks. They changed positions, he made her hold on to the headboard as he took her from behind, feeling her clench around him when he took a handful of her raven locks and pulled. He savored her being on top, so he could suck on her sweet brown nipples as she rode him the way she wanted. He put her back on her back and pushed her knees to her sides so he could give her the full force of his cock, diving into her over and over again. Cullen had never wanted a woman as much as he wanted this one, and he wanted to make her never forget this night. He pulled out of her and her eyes snapped open.

"Cullen?"

He guided himself back into her, and pulled himself out again, keeping a close eye on her face.

"Don't tease - it wouldn't be - gentlemanly of you."

He did it a few more times, delighting in the gasp she emitted every time he was fully sheathed inside of her. And then before she could offer him more of her opinions or guidance, he held on to one of her legs and began to pound into her with control, with all the passion he felt for her. It barely registered with him that Indira was saying things to him, filthy, depraved things, interspersed with pleading, sacred prayers, that one of her hands was working at herself and also feeling him sliding in and out of her. He was now fixated on one thing, that he wanted to seed her deep, he wanted to fill her full with it, and he pumped away at her thinking of that end result, that he needed to see his spent dripping out of her when he was done. He fucked her harder, faster, until he felt her pulsing around him for what might have been the third or fourth time that night and her guttural groan pushed him over the edge. He emptied himself inside of her and then pulled out so he could watch as her quim pulsed and dripped with his efforts. He took three fingers and wiped it all over her, making her gasp one last time, before then collapsing on the bed next to her. She pulled a sheet over both of them and nestled himself against him, raining a trail of kisses up his jaw and then kissing him right on the scar at the corner of his lips. Indira beamed at him from under his arm.

"I don't know about you, but I'll never think of Antiva the same way ever again."  
  
His voice was not as enthusiastic when he responded. "Neither will I."

She pouted at him. "Don't be sad, why are you sad? How could you possibly be sad after - what you just did to me?"

He wove his fingers between hers and gave her tattooed knuckles a kiss. "Because. We will have to go back to that ship tomorrow and you will return to your - absolutely cruel snubbing of me."

Indira shook her head at him, tracing a finger across the bow of his lips. "I will not snub you. I will invite you my bed, Cullen. Don't you know what you are to me?"

In the silvery moonlight that came in through the window nearby, he could see her dark brown eyes staring into his, hawklike and still. 

"You are a _treasure_ I stole from another woman. _You are mine_."

 

* * * * *

They slept well, and did not wake until the birds outside the window began chirping in a cacophonous chorus that roused them both from their sleep. Indira gave him an indulgent smile as her hands swept down his chest and landed right on his cock, already hard.

"Good morning, husband."  
"Oh, are we still playing house? In that case - "

Cullen rolled on top of her and dipped his head down so he could loop his tongue around one of her pert nipples. She purred and slapped a hand on one of his buttcheeks - and then they both froze.

"Did you hear that?"  
"Hear what? I only heard the sound you made when I licked your - "  
"Shhh!"

Cullen heard the front door creak open downstairs and then the footsteps and voices of two men. They were speaking Antivanian, so it was impossible to know what they were saying, but judging by their incredulous tone they were wondering who broke in and had dinner and left all the dishes on the table. Cullen thought of his father in law who possibly still owned this home and so it made sense it would have caretakers, although he heard a big clatter and then some rough laughter and then it occurred to him it could be - 

" _Burglars_. We should sneak out. Come on, Cullen."

They got dressed quickly and quietly, and Cullen remembered to grab his dagger from where he had jammed it into the post of the bed. He slid the window open and looked down.

"There's a trellis, let's - " 

He turned around and Indira looked conflicted. "I wanted those bloody crystal goblets. Those bastards, they don't deserve 'em. Cullen! Go get them."

"Indira, we need to go, you're being ridiculous."  
"Oh am I? Am I being ridiculous?" She raised her voice, half-teasing, half-serious, and Cullen heard the men downstairs stop their rustling around and grow silent. 

"Indira Valentina Trevelyan, I order you to - "  
"Oh, you know my full name? Why does that make me blush?"  
"INDIRA!"

He grabbed her by the elbow, pulled her to the window and made her put one foot on the ledge outside. "Don't push me, I'll fall!"  
"Will you just go please!"

They bickered all the way down the trellis and moved faster when they intuited the men inside were now heading toward the second floor where they had been. As soon as they had two feet on the ground they whooped and began to run back through town in the general direction of the harbor. Once they were blocks away, they slowed down and Cullen offered Indira his arm so they would look a little more respectable in their rumpled state. Cullen noticed a few men on the street eyeing Indira closely.

"Cullen. I left my corset behind."  
"Yes, everyone can tell, Indira. You're also not wearing any shoes. You know what you look like?"

A woman nearby stopped her sweeping so she could gawk at them passing by. "No?"  
  
"A whore."

It only made her laugh and her laughter was better than the warm sunshine that was lighting up the beautiful city around them. He dropped the formality and kept an arm around her waist, both protective and proud of her unfettered beauty, and they walked like this, ignoring the leers and looks of censure.

To Cullen's surprise, everyone was waiting on board for her and they cheered when they saw her. Iron Bull lent her a hand when she stepped onto the gangplank and onto the deck.

"So. How was your honeymoon?"

Cullen knew he was blushing now as he felt everyone staring at them. 

"Better than I expected."

Cullen wilted under the hearty laughter and accepted a few handshakes and endured hard claps on the back. The crew quieted down when Dorian arrived from below deck.

"And are you well?"  
"I am well, friend, and it is all thanks to you."

She ran into his open arms and a few other pirates around them hugged them too. Cullen realized he'd never stop being surprised by these hooligans. They truly loved each other. 

After everyone had taken a good look at their captain and found her hale and hearty, they readied the ship to push off and Cullen went back to being part of her crew and not her newest lover. He heard from Cass that they were heading to Val Royeaux, and while the rest of the crew thought nothing of it, believing they'd do their fair share of raiding along the way, he knew she was still thinking of the red lyrium trade, and still wanting answers. 

The Inquisition was just about to raise her anchor when another grand ship pulled into the harbor on the other side of their dock. Indira whooped in recognition. 

"Just a minute, boys! I know this ship, I know her captain!"

The crew groaned and ceased their usual procedures while Cullen watched Indira dash to the railing. Cullen sidled up to Varric, trying to be nonchalant.

"What's all this then?"  
Varric watched the other ship dropping its anchor as Indira waved at its crew. "Old friend of Indira's. Another pirate, a bit like her too, gave up being posh for stealing and sailing and being free. Everyone calls her the Iron Lady, but regular sorts who aren't afraid of her call her by her name, Vivienne. Viv and Indira don't compete, they see no need in tearing each other down. Plenty of ocean for two strong women."

Sera popped up just in time. "Three. Three strong women. I'm one of them. And Indira's wanting to get the news from Viv. Sometimes she's seen a ship worth pursuing but she didn't have the time, or they've changed the routes and timetables back at your company."

Cullen watched as Indira took a little leap from her ship to the dock so she could talk to the other ship's captain. "Not my company anymore. This is my company now."

The crew of the Inquisition watched as Iron Lady came above board. She was an intimidating, beautiful woman in dark purple velvet who carried herself with a regal bearing - which melted away as soon as she saw Indira.

"Darling! Come give us a hug!"

The two women met in the middle of the dock and embraced, talking at the same time and holding each other at arm's length to look at each other.

"You're wearing a dress, dear, that's fairly out of character for you."  
"Oh, it's a long story. I'd rather hear about what you've spotted on your way here. Anything good? Any more of those Fereldan Trade Company gits? Oh, where are my manners - would you like a drink? Someone get Lady Vivienne a drink please!"

Cullen turned around with authority and several deckhands who thought they were worthy enough of this task backed down. He headed for the galley, found the two least scruffy tankards and dipped them into the brandy barrel, knowing regular rum was beneath this meeting. When he returned, Indira was telling her friend about their plans.

"No, figured we'd head back south. I've got business in Val Royeaux. As much as I'd love to make a mess in Par Vollen and rout a few of those Tevenese ships in port, I - "

Cullen handed them the drinks but they hardly looked at him. He stood nearby regardless, wanting to be of any help to Indira should she need him.

"But darling, you didn't let me finish. You don't want to head to Val Royeaux, you want to go north, Because on the way into Antiva, I passed an old friend of yours..."

Indira stood up straighter and he saw her clench her jaw for a moment. "Oh, did you..." Her tone was carefully neutral, but it was too neutral to be real.

"You'll want to sail north because you will bump right into Raleigh Samson."

Indira downed her drink and gave the tankard back to Cullen. She didn't look at him, her eyes were far away and fixed on another goal already. Indira turned and called out to Varric: "We're changing course. We shall sail north, to Par Vollen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me at [ the templar and the rogue](http://thetemplarandtherogue.tumblr.com) \- I reblog fan art, historical images, and other content that inspires my fan fiction writing.


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